


Playing Gooseberry

by hungrygrl



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/F, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9243074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungrygrl/pseuds/hungrygrl
Summary: How to make your girlfriend feel like an outsider. Jane's girlfriend plays witness to Jane taking care of Maura.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first foray into R & I fanfic. First chapter and a half (had to clarify that) was originally written for a different pairing and posted on ff.net. Got into reading stories in AO3 for writing inspiration so I thought, why not share here. This may not be for everyone as it is "other character" heavy, however, this "other character" is a fave of mine so I hope you give it a chance.   
> It is still a Rizzles story, after all. ;)

**Chapter 1**

 

I watch slim fingers lightly skim over the other's back.

Jane's. Over Maura's back.

My girlfriend's. Over her best friend's back.

I feel an all-too familiar fear nibbling at my already fringed edges. I get flashbacks to when I was 5 and would hear my older sister, who was allowed to stay up an hour later than I was, rummaging through our chest of toys and dolls and little plates and pitchers and teapots. I knew she would never touch something mine. She had quite clear boundaries of what's hers and what's someone else's for a 9-year-old. Even if she did actually give in to the occasional urge to give in to curiosity and let her fingers wander over to what's mine, I could always count on her to be careful. Still, I was afraid.

It wasn't that I didn't trust my sister.

I didn't trust the lure of my toys. My pretty teapots and my neatly stacked pink plates and my perfectly coiffed, blonde dolls. Even my little toy soldiers and guns, matchboxes and baseball cards.

Slight movement reels my eyes back to where Jane sits beside Maura, listening intently to the man garbed in white discussing matters unavailable to my ears with a friendly yet knowledgeable air, his expression tempting a smile. For someone whose voice I've never even heard beyond hushed tones, I'm quite familiar with his presence now.

Him, a doctor. Maura's.

Her oncologist.

Probably telling her, them, about how she'd need to continue her chemo for days and days to come. Maybe months and months. Years. His smile restrained by the knowledge that whatever good news he may have wouldn't remain so for long. There have been periods of remission, of false hopes. I've seen his smile grow from free to careful.

Practically telling her, them, that they would be given free pass to spend those chemo days...months...years, together. Jane taking care of Maura, waiting patiently with her bucket and ice chips, her green towel now well worn from the hundreds of times it's gone through the wringer that is Jane's fingers - taking out her anger over her best friend's illness on the poor rag. Jane with her slender but toned arms that somehow always garner enough strength when necessary to lift Maura's frail form when the chemo takes its toll on her.

I've seen her lift Maura effortlessly, but never nonchalantly. Always with great care as if transporting a precious cargo from toilet floor to bed.

And each time, I wonder why I have to beg ten, maybe twenty, times just to get her to give me a piggy back ride from the car to the front door.

Maybe it's that I'm heavier, that I'm a heavier load.

No, it can't be that I'm not _as_ precious.

Why else would Jane have called me her "precious" a few times? Granted those few times have been the one or two times I've managed to complain a little about all the time she spends with Maura.

That can't be it. I _am_ precious cargo to Jane.

Only maybe heavier.

I shake my head free of my rambling, indiscriminate thoughts, my attention caught by the two figures - occupying both my head and my view- getting up from their perch.

I have a brief hallucination of a couple getting up from their knees, having just been bestowed the white-robed man's benediction.

I shake my head once again, this time a little more violently, of such an absurd hallucination. Hallucination? Or an illusion?

They say illusions are misinterpretations of existing stimulus whereas hallucinations require no stimulus at all.

An illusion then. I am merely misinterpreting existing stimulus.

_Me._ Misinterpreting.

_My_ bad.

I manage to even briefly chuckle to myself over this latest error in judgment. I've had quite a few lately. Like that time I wrongfully accused Jane of coddling Maura too much after I had assumed she had been paying for her caregiver all this time. Jane had corrected me promptly, explaining that the check I had seen made out to Jill, Maura's caregiver, was just a result of Maura running out of checks. Nothing else. Adding, with more than a bit of sarcasm, that Maura could probably afford to pay for 10 caregivers if she wanted to. Maybe she did want to. But I knew Jane had barely only given in to even having one. Why pay for one when she can take care of Maura herself, she argued over and over, hesitantly relenting only after Maura's mother herself insisted on it.

I had apologized for the mistaken assumption, of course. I realized how absurd it would have been if it were true.

Not only because Maura had more money than maybe my entire family, all the way down to my 3rd cousins combined.

But because best friends don't pay for their friend's personal caregivers.

Husbands do. Wives do. Parents, girlfriends, lovers do.

And Jane is none of the above.

So yeah, absurd. Absolutely absurd.

Again, _my_ bad.

Light peeking through the door snaps my head up and I see the pair walk out with similarly unreadable expressions on their faces.

Jane sees me and smiles. I beam back at her. I can't help it. My girl's gorgeous, even when her eyes look worried and weary. Even when her smile seems tired and hesitant. I rush forward toward her, careful to throw Maura a smile, too.

I reach up to give Jane a hug as she hugs me back. A one-armed hug.

It'll do.

It'll do because a peck goes with the hug. With the one-armed hug. But yeah, it'll do.

As I hug her though - and as she hugs me back - I catch sight of her other hand travelling up from Maura's back while Maura's eyes are respectfully averted. I watch her hand move up, as if in slow motion, to the dip between Maura's neck and shoulder. I watch her fingers dig, albeit all too gently, into the flesh before lifting up from skin and for a moment I rejoice. I anticipate the one-armed hug turning into one of Jane's full-bodied hugs which I love.

But it doesn't.

Her hand lifts up only to land on Maura's neck this time, kneading the pale flesh carefully.

Almost lovingly.

I almost tear my eyes away, feeling another illusion coming on.

I tell myself that I got a kiss. A kiss should be worth more than a squeeze on the back of a neck.

And yet I still feel the onslaught of another illusion. An illusion of Jane's fingers on Maura's neck being more intimate than her lips on mine.

It has to be an illusion, I tell myself. A misinterpretation of existing stimulus.

I pull away, smiling, relieved to find my movement seems to have extracted Jane's hand from it's perch on Maura's nape.

"How'd it go?" I ask quietly. Respectfully. Maura turns back to me, a slight, kind smile on her lips. Her chapped, cracked, pale lips.

I get a reply from neither of them and I get another familiar feeling. Not of an impending illusion this time. It's that other familiar feeling.

Of being an outsider.

Especially as I watch them trade glances. Jane's is questioning, Maura's indulging. Open. Like she thinks it's absurd that Jane would have to ask her when she knows she can have anything of hers.

I feel like grabbing a bag of popcorn and a tall cup of soda. To go with the silent movie unfolding in front of me. I should be used to it by now. I should have that can of Coke and that bag of microwaveable popcorn in my purse handy every time I know I'll be standing in these two's presence.

And yet I'm not. I'm not quite used to it.

_I_ 'm the girlfriend. _I_ should be standing in Maura's place, communicating wordlessly with Jane. Maura should have the popcorn and soda in her bag, watching us trade intimate, knowing glances.

"We're going on a mission," I hear Jane speak, my hearing compromised by my ringing thoughts.

"You're what?" I ask stupidly, the hundred frown lines on my forehead hopefully enough to express my confusion.

"She's in remission."

"Oh." Again, I say stupidly, drawing a blank for a few seconds before it dawns on me that the appropriate emotion my face should be displaying right now would be joy, relief, delight. Every other word in the dictionary that means the same as happiness.

So I smile. A huge, ear-splitting, I-just-won-my-second-grade-spelling-bee smile. And turn to Maura. I hold my arms out to her, inviting her for a hug. A celebratory hug. That's what people do in times like this, right? They hug in celebration?

Thankfully, Maura is in on the tradition as she hugs me back. Not a one-armed hug, mind you. She hugs me back with gusto. With as much gusto as her frail form allows. She chuckles, too, while she does. And for a moment, I'm lost in my genuine relief and happiness. For Maura.

And for Jane even.

Maybe even for myself. Because a healthy Maura would mean a happier, less grumpy, less tired, more-time-with-me Jane.

For the moment, I forget about all my illusions and familiar feelings and whatnot. I squeeze Maura carefully before releasing her, not wanting to extend the hug to where it would be uncomfortable for Jane to be watching her girlfriend and her best friend hug. Especially with both of them batting for the same team.

Well, sort of. Maura bats for both teams, I've been informed by Jane. As if meant to reassure me.

"That's great news, Maur," I say without thinking. I quickly flash the same smile to Jane, surprised to find a slight frown crumpling her otherwise smiling face. Yes, I know her well enough by now to notice when she's frowning in the middle of a smile.

Then I realize what had uprooted the frown. I called Maura "Maur." A no-no in Jane's book. I shrug my shoulders. What else can I do?

"It is. It really is, Casey." Maura saves me from returning Jane's frown. I still don't get why she gets so possessive of that missing 'a' in Maura's name.

I shift my gaze back to Jane, relieved to find her barely discernible frown has disappeared.

"It's more than great. It's incredible news. Incredible enough to warrant some badass celebration," Jane declares grandly, so happily I feel her currents of excitement travel through the air to my own fingertips to course through me.

I have to keep myself from clicking my heels in glee. When Jane celebrates, I know she's not the kind to hold back. The thing is, it's been a while since Jane's found reason to celebrate.

Not even our second year anniversary has been reason enough to celebrate. She had said it didn't feel right to celebrate when her best friend had practically just been handed a life sentence. I couldn't really say anything in response to that. Especially not after spying the glaze of tears forming in her eyes as she spoke the words. Instead I pulled her into me and comforted her as I knew she needed to be.

I agreed, of course. It wouldn't have been right.

I agreed even when all I really wanted to do was throw myself down on the floor, pound on it with both fists while I flail my legs in protest. Anniversaries are supposed to be celebrated. I wasn't asking for a grand ol' fiesta. A dinner maybe. Anything to acknowledge that two years of being with me, being my girlfriend, was something worth commemorating.

Even a fucking card would've sufficed.

I didn't get anything. Well, nothing other than a text message.

I couldn't really feel bad. Not when the day had fallen on the exact same day Maura had her first chemo sessionb after all her radiation trials had not really done much. One look at her heaving form when I stopped at her place to greet Jane - and to visit the ill blonde, too, of course - was enough to wash me free of any bitterness. I had watched my girlfriend kneel beside her as she emptied foul-smelling liquid out of her system. Jane never seemed to mind, even leaning in close to wipe Maura's mouth free of remnants with that green washcloth.

They've had the damn rag since. I can still remember Jane's glare when I had suggested one time, jokingly, that said rag deserves a break. Needs to be retired. You'd think I had suggested it was Maura who needed to retire from the sharp beams she had shot me through her eyes.

I had to look away, forcing a laugh. Those beams were too reminiscent of the beams my mother's eyes used to shoot me whenever I had come home with a girl. Beams that always carried a "how could you?" note with it. Those beams always made my insides turn. They always make my heart beat nervously, in both fear and restrained indignation.

I had to insist that I was joking. It took that and a few playful kisses on Jane's cheeks and neck before she softened up and forgave me for my trespass.

I never talked about the green washcloth ever again. It was one of those untouchables.

Untouchables.

I hear my sigh escape spontaneously, the sound forlorn and exhausted.

I _feel_ forlorn and exhausted.

Jane and Maura had a lot of them, untouchables. Things and topics and memories no one else outside of their small group of two are ever allowed into. It's like this little chest...no, more like a closet, full of their untouchables, always locked and off-limits to unworthy individuals.

Like the green washcloth.

Like "Maur."

Like that "incident" in Jane's first year as a detective they would never share with me, only ever mentioned once by Jane, and by accident. From the look of guilt on her face, you'd have thought she had inadvertently admitted to knowing where Jimmy Hoffa's body is.

Maybe Jimmy Hoffa _is_ in their "untouchables" closet. Wouldn't surprise me, from how protective they are of it.

I digress again.

Back to this celebration thing. This celebration thing that has Jane's face all lit up with excitement and thrill.

It tickles me.

It's been a while since I've seen her genuinely happy. Not even with me has she been, I think. I quickly dismiss the thought before it could provoke sadness. This is a time for "happy," not "sad."

"Maur, I'm taking you to Cabo. We're going for a whole fucking week, even two. Sun and ocean, just as you've wanted all year but hasn't gotten. Blue skies and clear water."

I think I'm actually shuffling my feet in excitement. Jane's excited tone, other than being sexy as hell, is thoroughly infectious.

"Just you and me, Maur."

And just like that, my feet stop shuffling. How can they when I feel those balls and chains clamped around each one of them again?

Just like that, I feel heavy.

Again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're in the same universe...but not a part of their world.

**Chapter 2**

 

In the end, I end up swallowing every single word of protest rushing to my lips upon Jane's declaration of the celebratory getaway including none other than Maura and herself. She may have mentioned my "extremely important, potentially career-altering conference" as a reason for my non-inclusion but still, I would've appreciated an invite at least. Nevertheless, I smile dutifully, pretending that I am in full agreement my joining them is out of the question. As soon as she hears my reassurance, my overjoyed girlfriend turns back to Maura, commencing a lengthy litany of things planned for the blonde.

I look on with what I hope is a genuinely supportive smile on my face.

I highly doubt that's what I have on though, judging by the sympathetic glances Maura keeps shooting me, not knowing every single one of them makes it all the way to my peripheral vision. I refuse Maura's sympathy.

It's unnecessary. She's the one with the cancer.

It's unwarranted. There's nothing to feel sorry about. I still have the girl, last time I checked.

Last time I checked, too, that was never a point of contention.

So why now? Why do I feel the need to stake my claim on Jane, be it only in my head?

The question troubles me. Troubles me enough that I cast a careless glance Maura 's way, just in time for my contemplative eyes to meet hers...her annoyingly sympathetic ones. She smiles rather guiltily. The smile I shoot her back, I hope, disguises whatever thoughts run in my head.

"Remember that resort we stayed at, babe? Wasn't that perfect? Maura would love it, don't you think?" Jane's question pries my attention away from her best friend. It takes some effort to process her question, even more to come up with a reply. I know exactly the place she's talking about. The one she took me to on our first year anniversary. The one where I fell for her over and over and over as she treated me like her queen for an entire week. The place where it was cemented in my gut and in my heart that she is _the one_. The very place I have always imagined I would propose to her.

It was our little spot.

That sort of undiscovered place you discover and then take the love of your life to and share it with her for eternity.

That sort of place you keep between yourself and your other half.

At least that's what she'd always thought of that place as.

So why would Jane take Maura there now?

"Babe?" Jane laughingly prods, shaking my forearm playfully. "Oh, god, you don't remember, do you?" she pushes with a light tap on my wrist.

How could I not remember?

How could she think I would forget about that place?

"Of course I remember." My voice sounds painfully indignant to my ears. I think Jane notices my time as a look of guilt briefly crosses her features.

"So?" I catch her brown, expectant eyes still waiting for confirmation. "Wouldn't it be perfect for Maur?"

My fists clench at my sides, my heart pushes back the bitterness threatening to crush it even as my throat furiously takes big gulps to let my voice through the lump currently lodged in there. I nod in the meantime. I nod as if I am in 100% agreement.

I lie to her. "Yeah, yeah, that would be perfect." Sound finally squeezes through my throat, escaping between my lips wishing to do nothing but form a thin line and yet forced to form words instead.

Words completely warring with thoughts.

So I lied to her. I fooled her. I see her enthusiasm return as she faces Maura , proceeding to ramble on and on and on once again about that place that used to be _ours_.

Within a few minutes, I feel the weight of their enthusiasm pushing me away. Every excited squeal from Jane and agreeing nod from Maura feels like a hand pushing me back inch by inch, farther and farther away from their little circle.

I feel my feet completely out of bounds now. I don't feel I breathe the same air they do. I don't feel I stand on the same ground their feet constantly shuffle in excitement on.

I don't even think we're in the same world anymore.

They're completely in their own universe.

I clear my throat. I should at least alert them, however belatedly, of my departure. I've long been gone. It's just no one's noticed.

"I have to go. I have a meeting in half an hour."

Jane briefly steps over the imaginary line bordering between where they are and where the rest of the world is, where I am.

She gives me a hug. The warmth I feel from it springs me some hope.

She wraps her arms around my waist and I smile.

Her hands briefly squeeze my hips and my eyes close.

Soft lips press against my neck and a moan quietly escapes my lips.

It takes very little from her to get to me.

Very little.

And yet it never feels like I get enough.

It only takes two days for Jane to plan the trip, leading me to think some pieces had already been in place even before they heard the good news from Maura's doctor. Or that, good or bad news, Jane had been planning this.

Which brings me here, two days later, walking away from Logan's Terminal 4 after dropping off my girlfriend and her best friend. I push the insistent wave of jealousy away, focusing my eyes on the bustle in front of me, needing something - anything - to keep my head from turning to watch the two I had left waiting to board. Scared really. Terrified. My will is powerless though against my almost masochistic curiosity.

So I turn around. Right before I reach the heavy doors.

Only less than a foot away and I couldn't make it.

I tell myself it's my need to see my girlfriend one last time before she disappears for a whole week that's got me at a sudden halt. Just that.

So I stop.

And twist.

Stop and twist. Sounds like some 60's dance move.

That's how it's felt like anyway, the last few days. Weeks, months maybe. One extended dance with steps so confusing I'm left lagging behind, desperately trying to catch up with the leader. The leader and her star student, left feeling like the third cast member in this tango.

Aren't tangos danced between two people though?

My point exactly.

I'm the third dancer in this tango. More of a spectator. At least that's how I've been left feeling lately.

I digress again.

So I stopped, turned around to catch one last glimpse of the other two.

What I see doesn't really surprise me. I see them seemingly engaged in the same dance I've been watching them weave through over and over again of late.

Jane's facing Maura, the doctor's oversized and expensive-looking Chanel purse - very much not my girlfriend's style - slung over her shoulder familiarly. Jane, ever the gallant one. I should not have to boast about it but...she does the same for me, carries my purse, however awkwardly.

I'll take anything that tells me Jane treats me, _her girlfriend_ , no less.

I smile to myself, casting them another glance.

I shouldn't have.

I catch Jane staring at Maura. Looking at her like I don't believe I've ever seen her look at anyone.

Not even me.

Like no one else is in the room. Like they're back in their own universe, an invisible wall fencing them from the rest of the world. Maura appears to be speaking softly, slowly, while Jane listens. Or maybe she's not even listening, she _appears_ to be listening but her eyes give her away. They are running over the oblivious blonde's face, teeth on her bottom lip. And then she chuckles, telling me she had actually been listening. Her gaze momentarily drops to the ground, shaking her head with a wry smile. When she looks up, her smile is so tender. So fond. So loving I feel it like a punch in the gut.

And then Maura stops talking, appearing a little distressed judging by her hurried breaths and the hand running over her back soothingly. Jane's hand, of course.

I can barely make out Jane's mouth cuing the doctor.

"In and out, Maur."

I feel jealousy burning in my chest.  Jealousy over Jane's profound interest in Maura's breaths. Like they are her own.

And then her hand snakes out to gently pull Maura's head towards her own, leaving them standing forehead to forehead.

Seemingly sharing breaths.

I have to turn away.

I can't breathe either.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm an outsider, outside of everything." - Ramones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of warning, there's a lot of Casey here. I apologize in advance for any gagging that might ensue. ;)

**CHAPTER 3**

 

Although I had planned to take the day off, the idea of not having work to distract me after the episode at Logan was inconceivable. I knew my day would be filled with nothing but a non-stop loop inside my head of Jane and Maura in that intimate pose outside of Gate 29.

So I had driven straight to work, not even bothering to change from the jeans and top I had donned half-asleep this morning.

I run my department, Human Resource, and so I carry most of the problem-solving load. And the prospect of ironing out corporate issues seemed far more enticing than that of ironing out the fears and apprehensions I had left Logan with.

I was right. I was distracted enough by several issues that needed to be resolved quickly.

For a good two or three hours at least.

When lunchtime came, I realized I hadn't heard from Jane. I knew they had a 2-hr layover in Dallas. By then, it had been almost 7 hours from boarding.

I had tried valiantly to bury my anxieties, telling myself they might not have had time between flights. The niggling thought of sending a simple text taking no more than a minute, I shot down more than a few times.

Now as I walk in to my kitchen from the garage, a quick glance at the microwave tells me it's 8:51 PM.

6:51 in Cabo.

Over 6 hours since their scheduled arrival. Factoring in taxi rides, hotel check-ins, meals and maybe even some unpacking, my uneasy brain gives Jane at least 1 or 2 hours to at least text me that they had made it safely.

I sit on one of the stools by the kitchen counter, my eyes falling on the bunch of keys nestled inside the red porcelain bowl on my dining table.

Jane's car and house keys.

I smile to myself, momentarily reassured.

My dining table red porcelain bowl is where Jane leaves her keys. I take fleeting pride in the thought.

But then I spy the big brass key and the Prius key fob also in the bunch.

Maura's house and car keys.

And just like that, the heavy blanket of anxiety and unease I had managed to shed is back on, enveloping me.

I rake my suddenly shaking hands through my hair.

I push away the thought of Jane and Maura's keys all bunched together as if their lives were...shared.

I push those thoughts to the very back, thoughts reverting back to the little issue of still not having heard from Jane.

It's Casey's revolving door of anxieties.

I tell myself maybe there had been some incident that had caused a delay during their flight. I feel immediately guilty as soon as I entertain the thought. I shouldn't be reassured by the possibility of something unforeseen and potentially undesirable happening as the reason Jane has neither called nor texted me.

I'm worried now. I stride quickly toward the living room, turning the TV onto the news channel, all the while mumbling "They're fine, they're fine" to myself.

I leave the TV on CNN for a while. I also search google for any news that might be significant.

Nothing. I start breathing more easily, reassured.

Until I remember that my girlfriend is some 3000 miles away with Maura. With the best friend she's spent a considerable amount of time comforting, protecting, taking care of the past few months.

Maybe for the past several years, even before the cancer.

But I refuse to think about that. I refuse to further fray my already worn nerves.

I try my best not to dwell on the fact that she is 3000 miles away with the person with whom she has knitted this blanket of insecurity and unease - unwarranted or not - that covers me now. This blanket that leaves me cold and insulated from the warmth and stability usually reaped from a 2-year relationship such as I have with Jane.

I want to scream. Instead, I growl in frustration.

I want to text her again, call her again. Instead, I clench my fists.

I refuse to text or dial her number again. 11 texts and 8 unanswered calls should suffice.

I can't wallow like this, I tell myself. I decide that a bath might do me good. Wash myself up and wash away my fears.

My tub actually looks inviting. I turn the water on and let it run while I gather my PJ's. When I finally manage to lower myself onto the water's cocooning warmth, I feel right away some of my tensions ebb.

Positive thoughts, Casey. Positive thoughts.

I start thinking about the first time I met Jane. They had been investigating a murder in the office building next to ours. On the morning of the crime, I had been at the same coffee shop the victim had been at, leading the investigators to want to speak with me. It had been Vince who interviewed me but as I was leaving, I walked past Jane whom I smiled and maybe stared at longer than I should have.

I couldn't help myself, she had been a striking presence, standing right outside the door in all of her stunning and imposing glory.

She still blushes, laughs bashfully when I tell that story using those exact words.

The next day, I get a call from her, informing me she had a couple of details she needed clarified.

She asked if I had noticed anything unusual about the victim, signs of nerves, fear, etc.

While I asked her out for coffee.

She had said yes.

After our first coffee, our next two dates were to see Red Sox games. Both of them losses. Both times, she had walked me to my door and left with nothing but a chaste kiss on the cheek. I blamed the Red Sox.

Even then, I knew she was attracted to me. I knew she enjoyed my company. She may not have verbalized it but her actions told me what I needed to know. Told me enough to ask her out again.

But only after I made sure she had no strings attached to the Medical Examiner she always seemed to be talking to and about, calling and taking calls from.

She laughed at me then, calling me silly. Reassured, I decided to keep on with my wooing of Jane Rizzoli.

Our third Red Sox game, they finally managed to win.

It was the win I would never forget. It was the win that won me a first kiss from Jane.

Yes, our first kiss was at Fenway.

I'd always thought that was a story I would tell our grandchildren over and over again.

I still plan on doing that.

I wake up, startled by the cold now enveloping me, realizing I had fallen asleep long enough for the water to have cooled considerably. My ears immediately single out the beep coming from my phone resting on the counter.

I rush to get out of the tub, not even bothering to cover myself up. I check my phone, instantly giddy when I see a missed call from Jane and 2 text messages.

The first text tells me they had "made it to the villa" several hours ago but that Maura had been exhausted and at the point of passing out so they had decided to take a nap after a quick dinner.

Nap together? I immediately subdue the errant thought. It didn't matter even if they did.

I quickly go on to the next text. It was a text sent after the missed call, telling me that Jane would Skype me the next morning, that she was running on fumes and ready to pass out herself.

I take a deep breath, relieved but disappointed I hadn't been able to talk to Jane, hear her voice before bed at least.

I immediately busy myself with getting dressed.

I am aware that sleep is my only shelter from inquietude.

The image of Jane sleeping next to Maura in the same bed I had always imagined we would spend our wedding night on keeps flashing in my head each time I close my eyes. I try hard not to cry, bite on my clenched fist to swallow the scream I want to let out.

I almost do. I almost give in to the urge to scream.

If not for the beep I hear from my phone.

A text from Jane.

"BTW, we're not staying at our resort after all. Tell you about it tomorrow. Love you, gnight."

The relief that washes over me leave me feeling boneless. Liquid.

I can sleep now.

It's 8:30 in the morning and I'm dressed, nursing my second cup of coffee as I sit on the couch, laptop on my lap. I had already texted Jane to Skype with me as soon as she wakes. I would rather hear from her, see her, before I leave for work.

At 8:46 I hear the familiar sound of an incoming Skype call. I waste no time in taking the call, instantly breaking into my giddy smile when I see Jane's adorably tousled hair and sleepy smiling face. My fingers reflexively reach for the screen. That earns me a soft smile from my girlfriend.

"Hey," she says, waving at me.

"Morning, love," I reply, waving back at her, feeling like an excited teenager. "How'd you sleep?"

"Ugh," I hear her grunt while the image on my screen is momentarily disrupted, I'm guessing, by movement. I hold my breath, immediately afraid.

Afraid I would soon see another face on my screen emerging from the other side of the bed.

"Sorry, sorry hon. Just trying to get comfortable," I hear Jane call out before her image once again comes into focus. I realize she had just been trying to lean back on her outstretched arms.

I get a better view of the bed and realize there was no one else on it.

Whew.

"How's Maura? Is she feeling better?" I ask, finding it easier to ask about the M.E. when I know she's not in the same bed as my girlfriend.

"Sleeping. I'm letting her sleep as much as she wants. As much as she can. Lord knows she was pooped when we got here."

"Yeah, good idea. You'll have plenty of time to explore the place. Let her sleep in," I concur outwardly even as the voice inside my head wants to say, "Let her sleep so I can keep talking to you, keep you all to myself."

"Yeah, I'll check on her in a bit. I just wanted to catch you before you left for work," she tells me, her smile scrubbing off another spot of insecurity.

I smile back at her, suddenly missing her tremendously. "I wish I could be there with you."

For several moments, she just stares back at me, her smile tender. "Yeah, that would be nice," she says finally.

"That bed loo-"

All of a sudden, Jane's head turns toward where I imagine the door would be, interrupting my plan to tease my girlfriend.

"Everything ok?" I ask, a little frustrated.

"Thought I heard something," Jane replies, already looking distracted. "Maura's probably up now. Come on, you can say hi to her," she announces, already getting up as the image on my screen is disrupted again.

As she gets up and walks out, I get a good look at the rest of the room, noting the contemporary and obviously fancy furnishings.

And then I notice the bed with the burgundy sheets and plain white pillows.

Simple but elegant.

And all made. Like no one had slept on it.

"Hey, good morning," Jane's soft voice snaps my head out of that all too familiar blanket of anxiety once again draped over it. Jane has obviously sat down on the bed next to Maura.

I catch a brief glimpse of my dark-haired girlfriend reaching over to ruffle a blonde head.

I violently squash the urge to feel like I'm intruding on a private moment.

"I was just Skype-ing with Case before she left for work," I hear Jane tell Maura before my screen is filled with the pale and haggard but smiling face of the doctor whose hand sneaks out from under the comforter to wave at me.

"Good morning, Casey," I barely hear her voice. More movement of the laptop shows me she is lying not in the middle of, but rather close to the edge of the bed.

It takes all of my positive energy, perhaps a day's worth, to not draw any conclusions from this observation.

"Stop moving the laptop, Jane," I hear Maura's voice again, softly reprimanding. "You're going to make Casey nauseous."

My instinct is to reprimand the blonde herself. Reprimand her for treating Jane like a 5 year old.

"Sorry, sorry, sitting still." Apparently, Jane doesn't mind being treated like a 5 year old. She complies just like that.

"Good morning, Maura. I hope you're feeling better. I heard the trip over to there wore you out." I can tell Jane was about to turn the laptop toward the blonde again, I'm quick to stop her. "Hey, no more moving the laptop around, didn't you hear Maura? This is starting to feel like watching the Blair Witch Project with all the rough camera work," I say, proud of my attempt to disguise my preference for Jane's face on my screen and no one else'. "I'm sure Maura can hear me anyway," I add.

"Yes, I can hear you perfectly, Casey. And thank you for asking, I am feeling a lot more re-energized and refreshed now after 8 hours of sleep," I hear Maura reply from beside Jane.

"More like 9," Jane corrects the other girl. "You fell asleep around 9:30."

I try not to wonder how she could've know the exact time Maura had fallen asleep.

I tell myself Jane's not keeping track of Maura's hours of sleep. She probably only happened to notice the time.

I hear Maura's quiet chuckle, see the hand that lightly taps Jane's forearm.

"Why don't you go back to the other room so you can talk privately?" I hear Maura ask Jane. I don't say it out loud but I thank her for the suggestion, wishing Jane had thought of it herself.

"You just want to hog the 100,000 count Colombian, Egyptian whatever sheets again," Jane teases the doctor, inadvertently confirming the fear I'd been trying to ignore.

"1200 thread count Egyptian cotton sateen sheets," I hear Maura tell Jane, getting a taste of her google-speak Jane always speaks of but I rarely get to hear. "And yes, I want to hog the sheets, and I want to try to sleep a bit more so, Jane...go. Go, go." The same hand as earlier appears again, this time pushing against the side of Jane's thigh.

I feel instantly jealous, watching the pale hand pushing against the bare, bronzed skin of my girlfriend's thigh.

"Ok, ok. I'm going. Just shout or throw something against the wall if you need me." I try to avert my eyes but I'm not quick enough to avoid seeing Jane lean in to kiss the side of a blonde head.

"Bye, Casey," Maura calls out as I get one last glimpse of her on the bed, Jane having gotten up and angled the laptop toward the blonde.

"Bye, rest up, Maura," I respond, even as my eyes are glued to the now empty spot next to her on the bed.

Clearly, Jane's spot.

Rather quickly, Jane fills up my screen again, evidently back in the same room she had been at initially.

Back on the same bed she had _not_ slept on last night.

"So, you have a 2 bedroom?" I ask, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh yeah, yeah...this is a 2 bedroom villa," Jane confirms. "I told Maura she was silly to have booked a 2 bedroom when there's no way I would've left her alone in a different room. I mean, this is not home, what if something happened in the middle of the night? What if she starts throwing up or getting a headache or...something. You know?"

Again, I try to ignore the intensity of Jane's rationalization.

"Of course," is all I can say in consensus. "So anyway, how'd you end up not going to _our_ resort?"

I put particular emphasis on the "our" and wait for Jane to tell me it had been her idea to keep our resort sacred, strictly for me and her.

"It was Maura's idea," Jane replies.

I feel a few bricks in my newly built shelter shatter.

"You remember Cruz, the travel agent she recommended who helped me book for our anniversary? Well, she obviously will always be loyal to Maura first," Jane tells me, laughing lightly. "She had me believing the other one was reserved when, all along, Maura had her book this villa instead."

"Oh," I manage to voice, desperately thinking of anything else to say. "What was wrong with our resort? Why didn't Maura want to stay there? Wasn't it fancy enough?" I decide to make a joke out of it, the weight of all of these revelations beginning to weigh me and my shelter down.

Jane, however, does not get the joke.

I see the creases on her forehead. Classic irritated Jane.

"No, of course not. Maur's not like that. She likes the fancy stuff but she'll be happy with whatever I choose," she's quick to defend her best friend.

"Hey, I was joking," I tell Jane, forcing a smile on even as I resist voicing, showing my own frustration.

Her fingers rake through disheveled curls before the smile eventually returns to her face. "I'm sorry. Of course you were joking. I just don't want you to think Maura cares about things like that more than anything else. It's just this place is a little more private and they actually have emergency air charter service in case…" she drifts off, obviously thinking about but not wanting to acknowledge the possibility of Maura having health issues while they were there.

"That makes a lot of sense, Jane," I say, trying to reassure her. Despite my own nagging jealousy and insecurities, I hate seeing Jane unsettled and stressed out.

"And besides, she said that resort was _ours_ ," she adds quietly, rendering me a smile that immediately soothes my worries.

Puts those bricks that had fallen off my shelter back into place.

I have a newfound appreciation for Maura.

I know I would never say it but I do thank her for leaving that part of my life with Jane intact.

That resort was indeed _ours._ That resort and all the memories that came with it.

_Ours._

But…

This villa, this villa and all the memories that will come with it...are _theirs._

It comes from out of nowhere, this deduction.

It is most unwelcome but it's there.

And it's enough to shatter every single brick holding up my shelter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Like a million miles away from me you couldn't see how I adored you. So close, and yet so far." - Frankie Valli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a lot of Casey in my story because this is from her POV. I understand it's not easy for everyone to read but I hope I put in enough to make you want to anyway. At the end of the day, I am writing ABOUT RIZZLES, just from an someone else' POV. It is a challenge to write from an outsider's POV but it's what I set out to do from the beginning.

**Chapter 4**

 

This has been the longest 5 days of my life. Bar none. Not even the 9 days I spent waiting for Mr. Weiss' decision when I went for the job upgrade and applied for HR Manager felt as long as the last 5 days have.

Every night I have gone to bed with an elephant sitting on my chest - an elephant filled with anxieties and fears.

Mostly the is-my-girlfriend-sleeping-with-her-sick-best-friend kind.

Not to mention the will-my-girlfriend-find-the-time-to-call/text-me-tomorrow, too.

It hasn't been fun, not at all.

But tonight, I'm hoping everything changes. I'm hoping the elephant vacates my room. Vacates my life, for good. I'm banking on my girlfriend having missed me as much as I've missed her.

Even half of how much _I_ have missed her would be plenty, I suppose. Because I have missed her a great deal.

When I hear the buzz of the baggage carousel announcing the arrival of bags from Jane and Maura's flight, I will myself to stay rooted in my spot. I tell myself it's unnecessary to meet them halfway when they're headed toward me anyway.

It has nothing to do with wanting to observe from afar.

Sure enough, within less than a minute, I easily spot that familiar swagger headed toward where I'm partially obscured by a family of 6. Jane easily stands out. Not just because she towers over most everyone around her, but just because she strikes a stunning figure in her green cargo shorts rolled up at the hems to show off what looks like 6 ft of her endless legs.

Boy, do I love her legs.

About as much as I love her toned arms shown off by her loose white tank top. Her lean but strong arms I wouldn't mind having wrapped around me every second of the day. I can just about feel them pulling me into her, squeezing my body against hers.

As I'm sure Maura can.

Because Jane actually has an one arm around Maura's shoulder, pulling the doctor into her protectively to steer her away from a couple of men blocking their path. She leans down to whisper something in Maura's left ear.

Must have been one of her irreverent jokes, judging by the way the blonde scrunches her nose in amusement, closes her eyes, and shakes her head while looking up at Jane and giving her a backhanded tap on the stomach.

Like a little love tap.

No, not a love tap. A friendly tap, I quickly correct my disloyal thoughts.

I can't watch more of this, I decide. So I quickly walk around this family in front of me and start waving my arms over my head, not caring if I look like one of those inflatable flailing noodle people.

I'm 5'8" and long-limbed, too, so it doesn't take much flailing for the approaching pair to notice me.

Jane's eyes widen, she waves at me with her left hand and I wait for her to run toward me, arms outstretched, ready to catch me when I fling myself onto her.

I'm 100% sure she's strong enough to catch me.

But she doesn't run. She maybe walks a little faster but doesn't quite run.

Probably because she's still tethered to the woman next to her.

The woman whose hand goes to Jane's back and gently pushes her, encouraging Jane to go ahead and do what I'd been telepathically wishing - no, ordering - my brunette to do, run to me.

I'm disappointed to see Jane frown slightly at Maura before looking around to see how many more humans she needed to steer her precious cargo around. Maura can be pushy, too, I've found out.

But only around Jane. Only toward Jane, I've noticed. Like she knows she can get away with it.

She pushes Jane to go ahead again.

And this time, Jane does.

So I walk faster, happy to meet her halfway now. Jane takes several long strides to reach me.

I pretend not to notice her looking back to check on Maura before holding her arms out toward me. I just go straight for her, wrapping my arms around her waist while hers go around my shoulders.

I turn my head to kiss her neck before pulling back to give her a proper kiss. I've missed her lips and I try to show her just how much with my kiss, trying to deepen it while I squeeze her waist.

My heart skips a beat when I feel the responding pressure of her mouth on mine. But the next beat it skips for a different reason, when I feel Jane pulling away.

Too quick, too fast. No, not yet. I protest internally. Only, I actually said it out loud, I realize now.

"Sweetie, let me just grab Maura. Don't wanna get her trampled," she tells me, already turning around and reaching a hand toward the doctor who's not even 10 feet away.

Hardly in danger of getting trampled.

They walk back to me and I'm immediately cheered by another kiss from Jane. "Hey, it's so good to see you, hon," she declares and then awards me another kiss, on the cheek this time.

"You, too. You have no idea," I tell her and then kiss her again. I can't stop kissing her. I'd kiss her nonstop if there was a humanly - and socially acceptable -way to do it.

Instead, I force my attention away from her, turning to acknowledge Maura instead. I smile at the M.E. and give her a little tap on the elbow.

I've never really gotten comfortable enough to give her a hug. It's not that I'm afraid she would reject it if I attempted. It's just that Jane has told me on more than one occasion how uncomfortable the M.E. gets with being touched, especially being hugged.

Except when it's Jane doing the touching or the hugging, I have concluded over time.

"You look well-rested, Maura. Got more color on your cheeks, healthier. Looks like Cabo was really good for you," I tell her sincerely. She does look healthier. Happier, even. More relaxed.

"Thank you, Casey. This vacation does indeed feel highly beneficial. Cabo's just what the doctor wrote a prescription for," she tells me, her dimples making an appearance.

Jane, of course, chuckles. I can tell you now what she'll do next. She'll correct Maura's slightly off idiom, of course.

"You mean just what the doctor _ordered_ , Maur?" she teases, a slender finger shooting out to gently poke Maura's side.

I've seen this little spiel of theirs many, many times before. It never gets old for them, for Jane at least, it seems.

It's somewhat getting old for me.

"Let's go grab our bags," Jane prompts, ever the eager one to get moving. I nod and grab her hand, pulling her into me for another kiss.

"I've missed you so much," I whisper against her lips.

She smiles down at me, making my heart go aflutter. She can still do that to me, even after more than 2 years together. I wait for her to second the sentiment but gets rewarded with more kisses instead - lips and forehead. I devour my prize eagerly.

Within 10 minutes, we're out of Logan and driving to Maura's place. I was relieved when I didn't hear Jane offer to stay behind and with Maura. It seems like they'd figured it all out before even getting back home, that Angela would stay with Maura in the main house, just until bedtime at least.

Now I sit in my car, waiting for Jane to return from inside Maura's house after insisting on carrying the doctor's suitcase in. I refuse to think about the two people inside saying goodbye after their week spent together.

Instead, I make myself think about what there is to look forward to when we get to Jane's place after our week apart.

I fully intend to stay the night - nay, the weekend - over.

Stay with Jane and make this, our "hello again" count. Enough to keep her mind off of her "goodbye" with Maura.

* * *

Last night, I was strangely nervous. We had gone directly to Jane's apartment and I had nothing else in mind but taking her to bed, making love to her, and blotting out every single spot of anxiety on my skin and on my nerves. And I did. I made love to her until her voice, her body and the feel of her hands on mine were all that occupied my heart and my head. I held her long after she had fallen asleep, long after her my last shudder of pleasure. We hadn't made love in close to two weeks, probably the reason for my nerves.

It was around 2 AM when a full bladder woke me up and I had turned over, disappointed to find the other side of the bed cold and empty. I had gotten up and walked toward the bathroom, an eye and an ear out for Jane. I heard the quiet murmur of her voice, raspy yet soft, coming from down the hallway. I quietly made my way to the living room and stopped when I spotted the back of her head sticking out from one end of the couch where she had lain, talking on the phone. I didn't have to listen. I knew she was talking to Maura. She hangs up soon after and before I could turn around, her head swivels toward me. From the soft glow of the night light, I could see her face looking at me, surprised. And then with what I thought was guilt and curiosity. I just asked her to come back to bed. And she did.

This morning, I woke up before her to make her favorite breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I love early mornings with Jane.

I always end up re-imagining the same scene, only with two extra plates for two little children - ours. It usually leaves me feeling content and hopeful.

Today, I only felt protective. I felt protective over that scene, afraid the possibility of it ever becoming reality has dimmed.

The seeds of doubt I had planted maybe 5 or 6 months ago are brought back onto the forefront with every imagined scenario from our future jeopardized by what I see happening now. Everyday now.

It had all just become apparent to me that one week we had gone away to visit my grandmother in Connecticut almost 6 months ago. I had been excited to get away for a few days and introduce Jane to my beloved Nana. I knew they would love each other, and they did. But the vacation had been somewhat tainted by a small argument we had on our first full day there. It had happened after what had probably been the 4th time she had excused herself and stepped out to make a call in my Nana's patio.

She was just checking on Maura who had not felt well when we left, was her explanation. And when I had frowned and complained that we were supposed to be on vacation to forget about stressful stuff, she had bristled, claiming Maura was not "stressful stuff." Maura was her best friend who was sick. I had been talking about work, not Maura, I explained. We settled the argument, made up and actually had a great time in Connecticut.

But the seed of doubt had been planted. For the first time, I had been more aware of Maura and her place in Jane's life. She had always been a huge part of Jane's life - a daily, hourly part of it, it had always felt.

But for the first time that day, I was jealous of her.

And everyday since, my jealousy has just kept growing, much as I have tried to curtail it. Most of the time I tell myself I'm being selfish. I remind myself that this is Maura, Jane's best friend even before she had met me, we were talking about. It wouldn't be Jane if she didn't do everything humanly possible to save her.

Because that is what Jane does - she saves people. Especially the ones she loves. She takes them within her cloak of perceived invincibility which makes her go far and beyond what is expected from an ordinary human being. I have no doubt she would risk her life to save her Ma, Frankie, Tommy, Vince, me from any threat or danger.

What I hate is feeling that she would _give_ her life for Maura. Offer it up if it meant extending Maura's.

I hate that I even think that. Because then I question why I'm even still with her. Why I can stay with her when I feel like she values someone that much, someone who is not me - her girlfriend, her lover, her supposed significant other.

Because I love her. I am profoundly _in love_ with her. So unsalvageably in love I am willing to sacrifice self-esteem and pride, maybe even dignity, just to be with her. I don't believe she is doing anything to deliberately hurt me. She doesn't even know I harbor these feelings because I haven't told her about them.

And I don't plan to anytime soon.

She has enough going on with me, work, her family, and taking care of Maura. It would be selfish of me to add this on to her already heaping plate.

I can wait. I still believe things will get better. This is a phase and when Maura recovers, I will have my Jane back.

In the meantime, I intend to make the most out of my time with her.

Today, I invited a couple of friends over for lunch. A double date of sorts. Tim and Cassie we have hung out with once before. Cassie is an old friend from college whom I have sort of drifted away from and Tim's her lawyer boyfriend. Cassie and I have drifted apart but now are rekindling our friendship with her having just moved to Boston recently. Jane had initial reservations about hanging out with a lawyer but it didn't take long for her to warm up to Tim with their shared Red Sox obsession.

They come over and we all catch up over lunch. Before I served dessert, I noticed Jane had started looking a little antsy. When I got up to get the cheesecake from the fridge, she had excused herself to the bathroom, too.

I noticed she grabbed her phone before getting up. I tried not to dwell on it.

After the meal, Jane and Tim moved to the living room to watch the game while Cassie and I did the dishes. Only a minute after, I notice Jane get up and head toward the bedroom, this time phone up to her ear.

"Is Jane on call? She's just like Tim, always getting work-related calls even on his supposed days off. With those two constantly checking their phones, I almost asked to turn those darned things off during lunch," Cassie tells me in a slightly irritated but still lighthearted tone.

"I don't think she is. I mean even if she's not on-call, they could still call her I guess. But her partner's pretty good at not bothering her when she's on vacation which, technically, she still is on," I tell Cassie.

"Oh, that's good. So you guys have been on vacation? Did you go anywhere fun?" Cassie asks, unaware she's making me a little uncomfortable.

"Oh uh, I didn't. She did. She actually went to Cabo to take her best friend whose cancer they just found out is on remission. Actually, that's probably who she's checking on that's why she's been on the phone a lot," I tell her, trying to keep the reluctance out of my voice. "And I didn't go because I couldn't really take a week off with a last-minute notice like she can." I reply casually, willing her to stop asking questions.

"Oh my god, her best friend has cancer? That's great that they got to do that, take time off from all that stress."

"Her best friend's the Chief Medical Examiner and they're all like family at work so it didn't really take much to get their boss to let them go. I mean, Jane's amazing at what she does and hardly ever takes time off anyway," I tell her with more than a little pride.

"Oh, so they work together! That's great. They're probably like brother and sister. Was it just her and her best friend or did his family go with them, too?" Cassie asks, turning her attention back to drying the dishes. I'm glad she was turned away and couldn't see my frown.

"Her best friend's a woman," I clarify, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

"Oh," Cassie immediately reacts, turning her eyes back onto me. She obviously tries to think of something to say with her mouth but her eyes tell me enough. The look of sympathy in them I immediately resent. "That's...that's awesome."

She returns to the dishes in front of her, but not before shooting me another sympathetic look.

_It's not like that._ I want to shout those words out at Cassie.

As much as I'd hate to acknowledge it, I speak out before I can bite my tongue. "They're best friends, they're like...sisters. Jane's very protective over family like that," I tell Cassie.

"Oh, of course," Cassie replies instantly, "sisters, of course. I, uh, think you told me Jane has two brothers, right? So yeah, she's probably the sister she never had."

I hate that Cassie feels like she has to help me rationalize this, Jane's relationship with Maura.

_It's not like that._

"Yeah, that's exactly what she is," I agree with her nonetheless, refusing to argue with my own self.

* * *

"Is Maura ok?" I finally ask Jane after the fifth or sixth time she's gotten up to make a call in the kitchen while we're snuggled up on the couch, watching a movie before bed.

My question obviously startles her. I'm not sure if she didn't realize I knew what she'd been doing every single time she's gotten up, phone in hand.

She throws her hands down in front of her in classic exasperated Jane. "She's not picking up."

"Maybe because you've been calling her all day?" I don't even try to hide my annoyance anymore. "Maybe she needs to be left alone once in a while, Jane?"

She gives me a disbelieving look. I've seen enough of her you-don't-know-what-the-fuck-you're-talking-about looks to know that's what she just sent my way. My annoyance grows and she must've sensed it because she sighs loudly - she rarely does anything quietly - and drags herself down next to me on the couch.

"Maybe," she concedes half-heartedly. "But I told her I'd check in on her every few hours. She could at least text."

I remain quiet, not sure if there's anything I can say that wouldn't sound gravely unsympathetic. I watch her head drop to her chest, the fingers of her right hand unconsciously massaging her left palm the way I've seen Maura do.

She gives me a sideways glance and the anxiety in her eyes unnerves me. Because I'm afraid her anxiety isn't over me being upset with her. It unsettles me that her anxiety could only be all about Maura.

"My head just starts imagining things, Case," she almost pleads for me to understand. "I can only think of those times she'd been taken or her life's been in danger. It always started with her not picking up when I call and it just...I get anxious, Case."

I sigh and give in. As irritated as I am, have been, I hate seeing her like this. I take a deep breath and reach a hand out to her back, crawling it up to her neck to try and squeeze the tension out from the tightly corded muscles. "Why don't you call Angela and tell her to check on Maura?" I suggest.

She turns toward me, excited like I had just suggested we leave right now for Fenway to watch a Red Sox game. "You don't think that'd be too much? I mean, I've been thinking of doing that but you know Ma...I'd hate to give her a reason to bug Maura just because I'm being paranoid…" her eyes stay on mine, begging for reassurance.

I chuckle in spite of my reluctance to indulge Jane's unwelcome obsession with Maura's well-being. "I'm sure she'd understand." I give her what she wants to hear.

I give her what she needs.

Like I always do.

She grabs my face with both hands then and presses her mouth onto mine, longer and with more intensity than she has all day. "You're the best girlfriend ever. That's all the reassurance I need. Let me go call Ma real quick and then we can finish the movie," she says even as she's already halfway out of the couch.

I watch her almost run back toward the kitchen, my insides feeling empty. Her kiss - which I label as that with reluctance - has left me feeling empty.

It may have been the most passionate, longest one I've gotten from her all day, but it was far from the nicest.

Mostly because I have Maura to thank for it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To me you're like a setting sun. You shine then you're gone." The Verve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some events (cases especially) in my story are taken from the actual show but not with 100% accuracy. I took some liberties and tweaked some details so please don't expect a truly accurate depiction of actual scenes and circumstances. And Frost is, obviously still alive in my story.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 5**

 

It turns out I had been right and Maura was perfectly fine. Angela had checked on her and promptly reported to Jane that the doctor had just been immersed in medical journals, fallen asleep, and forgotten to turn her ringtone volume back up.

Crisis averted.

Crisis = Jane making a trip to Maura's the evening before she returns to work.

After all that, this week has felt like Christmas.

Indeed, this week has. Like Christmas and I've been given the gift of Jane. Jane in my house every night. Jane in my phone, replying to and sending me texts and phone calls. Jane in my bed every night. Just...Jane in my life. Back in it after feeling like she'd been missing for a while.

There were a couple of nights she had come over late. Once from the station, staying late as she tried in her typical determined-to-the-point-of-obsession-Jane fashion to figure out the significance of a piece of evidence. And another night, from Maura's where she'd claimed to have gone to pick the doctor's brain, hoping her attention to detail would help my detective thresh out confounding details.

And, as she had added later on, to check on her best friend, too, what with the doctor still home on medical leave. She may have sounded a little distracted and troubled that night but I blamed work for it. Later on, I managed to give her my own version of a distraction, using my touches and kisses to mop up whatever had been troubling her.

Almost a week of a Jane who feels like she belongs with me, it's more than I've been able to string together lately.

But now, it's beginning to feel like the day or two after Christmas when all the presents have been opened and the holiday endorphins start to wear off. Jane had felt a little off again last night, even more so than the previous one. Sure, she had made love to me but it had felt like her touches were there but _she_ was not. I had gone to bed pleased, pleasured, but not satisfied. I felt like she wasn't completely with me.

I try _not_ to think she may have left something at Maura's the night before when she had gone to visit her.

Tonight, I intend to bring her - completely - back here with me. I managed to snag a couple of tickets to the Red Sox and Yankees game and I intend to surprise her with it. I can just imagine how thrilled she will be when I let her in, sees me in my Red Sox jersey and when I hand her the tickets tucked safely in my back pocket..

I hear her pull up in my driveway and I'm barely able to keep my feet on the ground, bouncing within my bubble of enthusiasm and excitement, eager for our night to commence.

I open the door in anticipation, finding my girlfriend standing in front of me with her head down, eyes glued to her phone. I reach a hand out to ruffle those unruly curls I always find sexy when tousled like they are right now, attempting to steal her attention away from the device. "Jane, aren't you coming in?"

"Hey, hon. Give me a sec," she greets me, briefly looking up while her fingers continue rapidly tapping on her phone's screen.

I ignore the irritation rising inside me, working to fortify the walls of _my_ bubble I'm determined to keep from bursting.

"Come on, come on, can't wait to tell you what we're doing tonight!" I grab her elbow and tug lightly. Without even looking up, she manages to step over the threshold and through my front door.

When she _does_ look up, I feel the slight frown marring her forehead poking at the walls of my bubble. "I didn't know we had plans tonight?" she asks me, clearly distracted still.

She doesn't even notice my Red Sox jersey.

So I make her, grabbing on either side of the jersey's bust in what I think is a fairly obvious giveaway. I look at her expectantly, eyebrows raised in anticipation of that squeal, that rapid clap of joy she always does when excited.

Instead I get a smile that begins absentmindedly, finally ending up...relieved.

"Ooooh, yeah, there's a game tonight, Yankees," she manages a bit more excitement when she says that. However, not quite enough to give me confidence my bubble will hold up. "Are we ordering in? Pizza? Chinese? Or I can make a quick run to Thai Palace?" she asks, completely oblivious to my growing agitation.

"Jaaaaaane," I begin to whine just as I remember the contents of my pocket. "Oh, oh wait. Here, maybe this will clue you in, my clueless girlfriend," I say as I practically push the tickets onto her hands.

She looks at them and within moments her eyes are bulging out of their sockets. "You got tickets to the game? How..." she asks with distinct surprise. Maybe my bubble will remain intact after all. "But…" she trails off.

Or maybe not.

"But?" I prompt. "How can there be a 'but' here? We're talking Yankees and Red Sox, Jane!"

"Of course, of course. This is great," she declares, finally remembering to give me, her girlfriend, a kiss. "This is amazing, Case. It's just…," again, she looks down at the damned phone as if it had the answer to everything, "do we have time to stop at Maura's?"

Oh.

I feel my bubble in definite peril, under attack.

"Uhm, sure. We should get going now if we're going to make a _quick_ stop," I tell her, trying to sound unaffected, emphasizing "quick." "Everything ok with her?"

Her frown reappears, the grooves on her forehead even deeper this time. "I don't know, Case. She hasn't been answering my calls or texts again...since after lunch."

I can't help the sigh that oozes out of me. Like blood from a wound scabbed over but reopened after being repeatedly picked at.

She looks mildly guilty. It doesn't make me feel any better.

"Jane…" my voice is thick with impatience. "Sleeping? Medical journals? Phone off? Time alone?" My irritation bars me from even forming full sentences. "Or…" I hesitate but still puts another theory out. "It's Friday night, maybe she had plans?" I can't constantly be the one being sensitive to other people's feelings. I don't even want to think about what I'm instinctively trying to be sensitive about.

But I called it. My question instantly erases whatever guilt had been etched on Jane's face, replaced by a full-blown scowl. Her right hand shoots out to angrily scratch the back of her neck. "Yeah, she said she was going to that Dennis creep's book signing. She wouldn't even let me drive her there. Now it's almost 6. The damn book signing was at 1, she _should_ be home by now. She _should_ be home resting, sleeping. I mean, she's barely been back on remission. She shouldn't be overdoing things," she rants animatedly, indignantly.

While _I_ internally let out a whoop of joy, piqued enough to not feel the tiniest drop of guilt. Maura must be on a date, I think to myself but know better than to actually voice out.

And...for my bubble's sake, I conveniently ignore the idea of Jane being jealous.

"Maybe they had coffee or dinner afterward?" I put out, amazed by my restraint. It isn't easy to mask elation.

"Pfft." It seems that's all Jane's capable of as rebuttal. "He's a creepy jerk who blew her off once before, she's just setting herself up for disappointment," I hear her mutter under her breath as she walks away toward the kitchen, fingers raking irritatedly through her hair.

"How about getting Angela to check on her?" I suggest, eager to give her an out, an excuse to skip that quick stop altogether.

"Of course I did," she replies right after taking a swig of the beer she had taken from my fridge, tone hinting at irritation. "She said house lights are off, no answer when she knocked." This seems to further irritate her. "And I can't ask her to check again because she's out on a date with Cavanagh," she adds, anticipating my next suggestion.

I give up, I give in. "Well then let's go," I tell her, turning toward the door.

I turn around to find her forehead grooved in a frown, eyes back on her phone. The eyes she turns onto me appear unsettled. She draws a deep breath in and lets it out, in the next instant chewing on her nail. "We won't have to stop at Maura's," she declares, catching me off guard. "You're right, she's having dinner at the creep-o's place."

I'm not sure how I feel about the tone of resignation in her voice. She walks toward me and I shut my ears to the heaviness of her steps. "She knows to call Vince or Frost if she can't get to me anyway," she mumbles, more to herself than me.

I debate whether to say what's in my head out loud, unsure how her already tippy mood will take it. I decide to go for it. "She deserves to go out and celebrate, Jane." _And it doesn't always have to be with you._ "Now, more than ever, she should be living life," I say quietly, reaching out to take her hand. I give her a reassuring smile which she returns, tight-lipped and reflective.

"Yeah, she should," she practically whispers. Her tone settles heavily on my chest, laced once again with resignation. Maybe even sadness. I make an effort to be indifferent to it. And it is much easier to ignore anything when she stops to give me a kiss as she walks on ahead. It lands on my cheekbone, her hand grabs mine, she leads me out.

When we get to the car, the first thing she does is pick up her phone. Her phone which I've come to see as a rope that tethers her to Maura such that, on occasion, I've had the silly notion of literally cutting it in half. "It won't hurt to tell Frost where she's at anyway," she says, sneaking a glance and a sheepish smile at me.

* * *

We were having a great time. Jane's gotten into the game and is acting like she had gotten over being upset earlier and like the Red Sox fanatic that she is. The third inning had barely started when Jane's phone rings and I catch "Frost" on the screen. Right away, she picks up, covering one ear with her right hand. I watch as her face quickly exhibits panic and in the next beat, she's getting up from her seat.

"What's wrong, Jane?" I ask, automatically reaching for her elbow to catch her attention. She appears to have forgotten my presence altogether as she turns and looks down to where I'm still seated.

"It's Maura. I have to go." She appears lost, torn, terrified.

Instinctively, I know not to ask for specifics. The look on her face tells me this isn't the time to entertain the jealousy that immediately jumps at my throat. I grab my purse and get up as I nod. "Let's go."

"But…" she falters for a second.

"Jane, this is clearly an emergency or you wouldn't have been running off like you were about to. Let's go," I say even as I'm gently but firmly pushing her forward.

She nods distractedly then turns around to run up the aisle steps. Thanks to her badge, which she flashes at liberty, we're out of the stadium and in her car within a few minutes. I'm barely buckled up when she tears out of the parking lot, again flashing her badge at the guards.

I am given a demonstration of Jane's skill as a driver, borne from training at the academy and that racing school Maura had sent her to one year as a birthday gift. (Which often comes up in conversation.)

I know the way to Maura's house well enough to realize we're not driving - no, speeding - in that direction. I don't even realize how Jane just knows where to go. I can only guess that the Google map I caught a glimpse of on her phone earlier had something to do with it.

We must have driven at least 15 miles but manage to get to our destination in what felt like a mere five minutes.

Jane parks behind another squad car and jumps out in a flash, only briefly turning to order me to stay in the car.

I make myself feel better about having been barked an order at by telling myself Jane was just being a protective girlfriend.

I can't help but watch her imposing figure, fueled by equal amounts of fear and determination, run toward the cops who initially try to restrain her from running into the building. It doesn't take her long at all to get them to step out of her way.

My nerves kick in when I look around and see all the cops with guns drawn, on alert outside the entrance.

Outside. Away from immediate danger which Jane has just raced toward.

And not having the slightest idea what's going on does not help. All I know is that Jane has thrust herself into what is a decidedly dangerous situation.

Which involves Maura.

I feel a flash of anger at the doctor for putting my girlfriend in a situation like this where she could very easily be harmed.

Or killed.

And then I realize it has been Jane's decision to put herself in this situation everyday when she decided to join the force.

Maura I can only fault for giving her a reason to be more reckless. To rush into a perilous situation with maybe with less thought. To worry even less about putting herself in danger.

Or losing her life.

Because she seems to value Maura's more than her own.

The notion just about kills me.

Movement from the cops outside pulls me out of my thoughts and I look up to see first Frost and Vince and then Jane walking out, her arms wrapped protectively around a smaller figure nestled into her left side.

When they get closer, I see that Jane's face is a picture of restrained rage. It's the only way I can describe it. It doesn't make sense to me but I see anger clearly drawn on her facade. I imagined relief, maybe comfort and reassurance. But not anger.

The next thing I know they're standing right next to the window and Jane is opening the passenger door.

"Case, you mind moving to the back?" Jane asks quietly.

I quickly step out, instinctively reaching a hand out to Maura's back. The doctor flinches, reflexively I'm sure, so I just as quickly withdraw my hand but quietly ask if she's ok.

I get a barely discernible nod and an attempt to turn her head toward me. Jane, meanwhile gives me a grim but grateful smile. It doesn't escape my notice that she also gives Maura a brief reassuring squeeze.

I get in the backseat but keep an eye on the front where Jane is leaning over, securing Maura with her seatbelt.

Again, the words "precious cargo" flit through my head.

Jane doesn't say anything and she still wears that angry scowl but I see her duck to catch the M.E.'s eyes, wordlessly asking if she's ok. Blonde head bobs in reply.

While Jane huddles up with Frost and Korsak outside the car, my attention turns to the passenger in the front seat. Once again, I reach out, gently running my hand over Maura's forearm.

"I know it's a stupid question but...are you ok, Maura? I mean…" I try to clarify but Maura nods, turning toward me with as close to a smile as she can muster. I can only imagine what she had just been through, what had transpired to have Jane acting the way she is now.

I realize that Jane's terror, when no longer warranted, usually turns to rage. Which is why I'm assuming she must have had the scare of her life.

"Thank you, Casey," I suddenly hear from in front and look up to see Maura having turned more fully toward me, looking at me with scared, exhausted eyes. And something else I can't quite make sense of. Her eyes also look at me with the barest hint of an apology.

"I'm just glad you're ok, Maura." And I am. As much as she has been the perceived reason behind my tenuous sense of security when it comes to Jane and our relationship, she is still someone my girlfriend clearly values dearly.

And I shall continue to try and understand where exactly her place is in Jane's life.

Without having to give up mine.

I barely even notice Jane slide into the driver's seat. "I'll drop you off first, Case, ok?" she tells me.

"Ok," I reply quietly, giving her a reassuring smile as my right hand reaches out to squeeze her bicep. She gives me another brief, grateful smile.

"Jane…" Maura's quiet voice startles me. She reaches out for Jane, too, but my girlfriend does not even turn toward her.

"Not now, Maura," Jane whispers quietly, sounding like she's trying to keep her tone unemotional. "All that matters is that you're ok," she adds, before starting the car.

Once we're on the road, my attention is back on Maura who's now turned toward the window, silent and unspeaking. At least not speaking with words. Her actions say a lot. Although very slight, I catch the looks she keeps throwing at Jane every so often. A look displaying a hodgepodge of emotions, but most of all distress and quiet trepidation, fear. It's obvious why when I see the anger still clearly etched on Jane's face.

And the surprising fact that she still hasn't even once turned toward the doctor.

I catch Maura once again turn toward Jane, her eyes lingering this time, her face so clearly in distress.

And Jane must've sensed the eyes on her, I imagine she must have sensed every look Maura's thrown her way anyway, because she finally turns toward the passenger next to her.

And I watch as their gazes lock. I watch as anger quickly melts into tenderness when she sees Maura's face. She turns her eyes back onto the road but squeeze them shut tightly before turning back toward Maura.

I see her right hand leave its death grip on the steering wheel, crossing over the middle console and the invisible barrier between her and the doctor.

I barely restrain myself from intercepting its flight.

Her hand lands behind Maura's head and I see her long, slender digits quickly disturb the doctor's hair in a gesture brimming with so much warmth and caring I instinctively turn away.

But turn right back, powerless against the masochistic need to watch the wordless interplay going on right in front of me.

I notice Jane's hand is no longer on Maura's hair. It has slid down to her nape, alternately rubbing and squeezing, kneading comfort into the distraught woman. I see her gently pull Maura's head toward her even as she skillfully balances her attention between her passenger and the road.

When their eyes connect once again, Jane speaks. "Hey, I'm not mad at you," is all she says, putting great effort into smiling. "You're ok now, Maur. I got you now, you're ok. That's all that matters," she coos, all the while tugging the blonde closer, probably not even aware she's doing it.

If she weren't driving, I imagine their foreheads would once again rest against each other.

Maura soaks up Jane's touch and simple words. Her eyes close and her hands manage to pull Jane's down from around her shoulder and onto her lap. She doesn't say anything but I see her cling onto Jane's one hand with both of hers. She nods slowly and smiles at Jane, her actions and the look on her face conveying calm now.

And all it took was a simple touch and a few reassuring words.

From Jane.

My girlfriend who sits but a foot away from me...but feels farther and farther away as I try and keep my eyes trained on her.

From the backseat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And I won't go  
>  and I won't sleep  
>  and I can't breathe  
>  until you're resting here with me."
> 
> The Killers

**CHAPTER 6**

 

The rest of the drive to my house is spent in relative silence.

I feel like I'm in the bleacher section of an outdoor movie theater, watching a silent film where the lead actors exchange nothing but glances and yet you're made to feel like there is _so much_ going on.

And I'm watching from afar. I should be amazed, mesmerized. But I only feel hollow and muddled. I keep trying to look away, distract myself with the emails from work that have been beeping notifications steadily but the sound only reminds me of the beeping of those hospital heart monitors.

Beeping like they're mocking me, reminding me of the state of my heart. Constantly in peril.

I look outside the window and notice we are in my neighborhood. Ah, blessed relief. Jane pulls into my driveway. I don't expect her to step out, much less walk me up to my door. Such is Maura's hold on her hand that I can't imagine her having the strength to ask the doctor to let go.

"Maur, let me just walk Casey to the door, ok?" I'm surprised to hear her husk out.

"Of course, Jane," Maura quickly acquiesces, letting go of Jane's hands and looking a little embarrassed. She turns to me and gives me a somber, grateful smile. "Thank you, Casey," she tells me again. "And I'm so sorry for cutting your night short." Her words give meaning to hear earlier apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it, Maura," I quickly reassure, squeezing her shoulder gently. "I'm glad you're ok. Good night and make sure you rest up," I smile as I slide out of the backseat.

As I step out, I catch from the corner of my eye Jane leaning toward Maura. "You'll be ok in here? I won't be long, just...lock the doors, ok." I quickly get out and walk on ahead to my front door. Jane can catch up. I don't think I can watch any more of this movie I'm a mere spectator to.

Jane does catch up. And I notice she stands where she can keep her car - and its lone passenger - within view.

Her arms go around me before I can say anything. One goes around my shoulder while another hand clutches the back of my head. I feel her press a kiss onto the side of my head.

I hadn't acknowledged the need, but I do feel reassured by it. And when she pulls away, seizes my face with her hands and kisses me, I feel mended.

Jane can _so_ tear me apart. Break me.

But it's only her, too, that can mend me.

"I'm sorry, Casey. I'm sorry our night had to end this way," she whispers close to my mouth. I smile, shake my head lightly, and give her hips an affectionate squeeze.

"It's ok, Jane," I quickly reassure her, kissing her again. Mending another part of me ripping open. "It's no one's fault."

She pulls away and I see her features metamorphose from contrite to distressed to guilty.

She looks away from me, turning toward Maura. "But I should've known, Casey. I could've done something if I'd just made sense of the clues we had," she laments and I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about.

"What clues, Jane? What happened to Maura?" I prompt gently, feeling like she's about to overflow and something had to be poured out.

She turns once again to her right, eyes focused on the reason for her despair, staring and unspeaking. I'm not sure if I'll even get a response to my question.

"Remember the case we've been working on? The serial killer who killed women? He sculpted their dead bodies into statues and then displayed them," she utters quietly, the words obviously paining her. "He turned out to be the same guy, the creep Dennis," she practically spits out the name then pauses, trying to control her emotions, "the creep Maura was out with tonight."

The revelation stuns me.

I thought I had a fair idea the amount of danger Jane and Maura faced daily in their line of work. I obviously did not realize just how much and for a moment I feel absolute fear for Jane. I fear for them. "But...what...why Maura?"

"He was killing prostitutes as some sort of revenge on his mother. She was a prostitute and abused him when he was a kid," she explains, clearly hesitant to justify the evil acts.

This evil act.

"But Maura's not…"

"Maura is _not_ a prostitute," Jane clarifies with such intensity. "But they have a history. Maura somehow saved him once before, raised him from the dead…" When I give her an utter look of confusion, she just says it's a long story. And one she's clearly unwilling to be reminded of. "And because Maura did, his twisted brain equated Maura to a mother figure and was going to…" The mere thought of what could have happened to Maura clearly torments Jane, her guilt and anguish painted plainly on her face.

She latches onto me and I just know her eyes are on Maura when she moves her head even as she tries to stifle sobs against my shoulder. "He was going to kill Maura, Casey. And I was nowhere near saving her," she cries, giving in to the heaviness of the guilt she carries. "We fought and barely survived cancer and I…" My heart clenches at her use of "we." "And I almost let her die anyway."

To watch the person you love the most all torn up and tormented by guilt and an apparent obsession with preserving someone else' life...and to not have that some else be you, is viciously painful. Especially when the reason for it you still grapple with. Especially when the only reason that makes sense is that the person you love the most loves someone else in that capacity. "I can't let her die, Case," Jane begs me to understand. "If we had switched places, you know she would fight for me just as much. You know that, Casey, right?"

I nod because, unfortunately for my heart and my sanity, I do understand.

It makes sense to me now why she had looked enraged earlier. Jane was mad at herself. Hated herself for not saving Maura.

"But she's alive, Jane," I remind her. "Maura's alive," I whisper against her hair.

"Only because he somehow, in the very end, decided to spare her and kill only himself." I feel her rapid breaths against my breasts, like a rumbling volcano about to erupt. The next instant she pulls away, abruptly, eyes still glued to the woman in the car, her own despair seemingly dismissed so suddenly. "I should get back to her. She...she must be scared still…"

"Yes, you should," I relent without argument. I use my hands to turn her face back onto me. "Are you coming back later, Jane?" I try not to sound desperate when I ask. Or selfish.

She hesitates and I hate making her feel like she has to choose, right now, after the kind of night she's had.

"I...I'm not sure, Case. I'll try, ok? Maura...Maura will probably need me." She has already turned her gaze back onto Maura, barely glancing at me when she replies. I feel a pang of irritation that's quickly extinguished by an all-too-familiar guilt. "I'm so sorry, Case. I'll call you though, ok?" She finally tries to catch my eyes, pleading for understanding. And only very fleetingly as she keeps turning toward my driveway, concern and anxiety depicted in her features.

I turn around on impulse, prompted by curiosity and irritation and I find the figure in the passenger side hunched forward. I barely make out hands covering a face.

"Go, Jane," I urge her on, knowing it would be selfish to keep her longer. "Just please call, ok." I give her a quick kiss and gently nudge her on.

"I will," she calls out, practically running back to the car.

I stand a little longer outside my door, half-expecting her to wave goodbye.

Instead I get the continuation of the movie I had been watching earlier as I watch Jane gently peel both of Maura's hands off her face and then drape them around her own shoulders. I finally get the strength to end this self-inflicted torture when I see Jane about to press a kiss onto Maura's head. I turn around, unlock my front door and let myself into the house.

The movie goes on and I can no longer watch.

* * *

Jane never called.

But she's here now, having just let herself in to my house. I turn and watch her approach but remain seated on the couch, nursing my second cup of coffee. The look she gives me when she catches my eye is at once contrite and exhausted. I can't help myself, despite the hurt I feel at not having received neither text nor call last night, I lift my left hand off the back of the couch, inviting her to join me.

I am pleasantly surprised when she practically throws her head onto my lap. I smile, threading my fingers through her hair. She looks up at me, weary smile on. "I'm sorry I didn't call," she begins. "Maura didn't fall asleep till after 3 and I figured you'd be sleeping. I didn't want to wake you," she explains.

I shrug, indicating I'm ok with it _now_. "How is she? I'm surprised you were able to leave," I inquire while my other hand reaches for hers, threading my fingers through longer ones.

"Ma's with her. She's making quinoa and kale something and then they're having a chick flick marathon," she tells me with a smile, for the first time showing some evidence of calm.

I hate to admit it but I'm envious of Maura's relationship with Angela. The older Rizzoli treats her like one of her children.

"That sounds fun. I'm sure Maura wouldn't mind some mothering from Angela today," I say, making the conscious decision to focus on the positive which, right now, is Jane on my lap, relaxed and smiling up at me.

"Yeah, Ma tried to get me to join the chick flick party but nope, no can do." She chuckles and I try hard to believe she _really_ didn't want to be there. "Besides, I wanted to come here," she adds, further fueling my belief. "I have a lot of making up to do, don't I?" she asks with a teasing smile.

I am so in love with this side of Jane, playful and lighthearted. And _so_ miss it, too, as it has become a rarity.

"I believe you do, miss Rizzoli," I tease back. "How do you plan on going about doing that? I would really like to know."

She gives me a sweet, tender smile. "How about I just show you?" she asks, lifting herself up from my lap. I'm momentarily disappointed but quickly appeased when she tugs at my hand.

She leads me toward my bedroom and in the next hour, Jane does indeed make it up to me.

"Hey, I have an idea," I tell Jane as we lay in bed after we had made love. After I had made love to her, sensing her need to be comforted, to forget what had happened last night, to be reacquainted with life and vitality. I can imagine it must be exhausting fighting Maura's battles - against sickness, against death - with her. I satisfied her needs like I always do. I helped her forget the demons she fights for herself and for the ones she loves.

She's still quiet, contemplative, gazing back at me with a quirked eyebrow as her only response, waiting for me to go on. "How about we have your Sunday family dinner here tomorrow?" I put out, gauging her face for a reaction.

Rizzoli Sunday family dinners were always at Maura's house, with Maura and Angela taking care of chef duties. Except lately, since Maura's gotten sick, Angela had taken over most of the cooking duties with Jane and Frankie doing their best to help out. I've never been asked to help. And never really did feel comfortable enough to offer.

In fact, I haven't really felt comfortable enough to show up more than once or twice in the last several months, glad to have the convenience of Sunday work as an excuse.

The few times I'd gone, everyone had been welcoming and warm and I don't believe the Rizzolis are capable of being anything but. Maura had been hospitable and gracious each time. Friendly in her own Dr. Isles way. And Barry and Vince were just as they'd always been with me, amiable and accepting.

Nevertheless, I had still felt like the girlfriend who was invited over to the family dinner.

I _was_ the girlfriend invited to the family dinner.

It's just I wanted to feel like family showing up to the family dinner without being invited because I didn't need to be.

"I think that's a great idea," Jane declares finally after lengthy silence, giving me a kiss for emphasis. "You want Ma to cook here?" she offers.

"Nah, I'll cook," I reply. I feel emerging excitement and nervousness now, wondering if I'd bitten off more than I can chew. Going from invited to hostess is quite the leap.

But I believe I can manage. It seems like Jane loves the idea and I'd do _anything_ for Jane.

"I can help?" Jane says sweetly. "I can uh...do the dishes?" I chuckle at her suggestion, finding this Jane all too adorable.

"You can help me shop," I tell her, "and maybe chop a few veggies."

"You got yourself a deal, girl!" she announces animatedly. "Much as I hate to, we should probably get going. I gotta take a quick shower, too." She turns her back to me, reaching for her phone on my nightstand while maneuvering herself to sit on the edge of the bed. I hear a thump followed by a curse and what I surmise is a grunt of pain.

"Are you ok?" I roll closer to Jane and lay a hand on her back, concerned. I notice her clutching her hands, right thumb massaging her left palm. I've seen her do this many times before and I've seen the scars on her palms. I've asked where they're from and I get the same response each time. She's not ready to talk about it. Maybe one day she will be.

"I'm ok, just lost my grip," she tries to wave my concern off.

"Is it your hands?" I push, surprising myself. "Do you uh...do you want me to massage them for you?" I offer, hoping this would be the _one_ time she'd let me.

I feel her back stiffen under my hand. "No, no," she waves me off once more, making light of my reason for concern. "They're fine, they really don't hurt. I just lost my grip, that's all," she drawls hurriedly. "I'm gonna go jump in the shower now and then we go shopping!"

I just watch her walk away toward the bathroom, feeling a little bit hurt by her dismissal. She was in pain.

But obviously not quite ready to share it with me.

* * *

The doorbell rings, I look up at the clock in my kitchen and see it's exactly four o'clock. I know it has got to be Maura. No one else would come not a minute before or after the designated time which, I must say, is a mere formality, set by Jane an hour before she actually expects anyone - especially the men - to show up. I briefly wonder how she got Frankie, who Jane had assigned to chauffeur the doctor, to come a full hour before he usually shows up.

She must have the secret recipe for wrapping Rizzolis around her finger.

Before I can even call on Jane to get the door, she's already marching past the living room. "Coming!" she bellows in typical Jane fashion. I follow right behind her, thinking it part of my hosting duties to greet and welcome every single attendee.

I catch the tail end of the roughly delivered but no less affectionate hug and kiss Frankie gives his older sister. He approaches and gives me a hug, too. "I'm gonna grab the beer from the car," he announces, more to Jane than me. "Maura's got a shitload," he pauses abruptly, aghast by his choice of words. "I meant Maura _purchased_ a _lot_ of booze," he restates, laughing as he goes back out the front door.

I stand to the side, ready to greet Maura next.

But she, apparently, is not quite ready for me yet. Jane still has her within her arms, having embraced the blonde tenderly after taking the bottle of wine from her and putting it down absentmindedly on the floor next to her feet. Their embrace is a stark contrast to the one she had just shared with Frankie.

Frankie she threw her arms around after an affectionate punch to the chest. Maura, she gently encompasses within her arms, squeezing so delicately, handled with so much care.

"I'm faring quite well, Jane. Your mother took wonderful care of me," I hear Maura telling Jane.

Her response appears to satisfy my girlfriend who leans in to press a kiss onto her forehead.

I weirdly feel like I would have minded less if the kiss had been on Maura's lips. It may have felt less personal, less intimate.

Maura appears in front of me in the next second, offering me the bottle of wine that magically reappears in her hands. "I'm sorry this is all I could bring, Casey," she apologizes unnecessarily. I recognize the bottle as a Domaine Leroy and probably cost more than the entire meal I have prepared altogether. "And thank you for hosting dinner tonight. I'm looking forward to trying your cooking, Jane has always been quite complimentary." The hug she gives me, while initially awkward, neutralizes the formality of her words.

I remind myself this is normal Maura speak, normal Maura behavior, as Jane always says.

"And it'll be even better because I helped make everything," Jane pipes in over Maura's shoulder.

I chuckle despite the minor awkwardness of my conversation with the doctor. Maura rolls her eyes. "Of course," she concedes, humoring my girlfriend.

"' _Everything_ ' would be a...stretch," I tease Jane, reaching out and pretending to appease her by squeezing her forearm. I just need to touch and reconnect with her. When around her best friend, she somehow usually feels out of reach to me. "She did melt the butter for the baklava," I acknowledge, earning chuckles from the other two. "Speaking of baklava, I should go and make sure I don't burn it and waste all of Jane's hard work. Jane, sweetie, I'll let you get Maura and Frankie drinks and help them get comfortable, ok," I ask Jane while giving in to an impulse to kiss her.

Within the next half hour, Angela and Sean arrive with Vince and Barry following soon after.

I am both thrilled and nervous when Angela joins me in the kitchen, offering to help while inquiring incessantly and with so much interest about the meal I've prepared. I tell her about the Greek side of my family and how practically everything I know to cook, I've learned from my Nana.

Angela's presence, while usually unrestrained and vibrant, is also extremely warm and comforting. I have always felt jealous that Maura gets to experience a lot more of it than I do but today, right now, I feel like I'm catching up.

Angela will be, after all, a huge part of any future I will have with Jane.

I tell her about my Moussaka and briefly explain that I had made a last-minute decision to make a meatless version for Maura when she wondered about the other, smaller, pan still in the oven. Maura is not vegetarian but Jane had mentioned that she had been trying to avoid red meat lately. Angela writes down the recipe I had just shared, insisting it had to be written in her own words or she would never remember how to do it, I have a moment to watch what's going on in my living room where the rest of the party is.

The men are all captivated by the game on TV, occasionally letting out groans or cheers, the expletives surprisingly spare. I am fairly certain it's because of the doctor sitting on the other end of the couch from Frost and Frankie. Next to Maura, Jane is perched on the arm of the couch, her right arm draped across the back, her body leaning in toward the other woman. Always close, connected. This must be the only time I've ever seen her ignore a game on TV.

"Is your hand bothering you, Jane?" I clearly hear Maura ask.

I expect a stretch of silence and then Jane dismissing the question, as she's wont to do with me when I ask.

Instead I hear an immediate response. "Yeah, the last couple of days it has. I think it's the cold. They didn't bother me in Cabo."

I hear no more words exchanged but see Jane angle herself more toward Maura. Her head drops and I don't have to see it to know that she had just willingly surrendered her hand to Maura, accepting her offer of comfort and relief.

I sigh and force myself to accept that this must be something else on their long list of untouchables.

* * *

Dinner is over and I mentally congratulate myself for the success I believe it had been. The food was complimented, consumed, and toasted (several times over). The company was, as it always is with this family connected by both blood and their shared lives, highly enjoyable and rowdy but loving and warm at the same time. Teasing and laughter flowed with the only somber moment coming when Angela had said shushed everyone before the eating commenced, acknowledging Maura's presence, her strength to survive her recent ordeals and thanking everyone else for rallying behind the doctor. Even a complete stranger would see that everyone at the table clearly held a tremendous amount of affection for the M.E.

I had watched Jane's eyes mist as she regarded her mother with an appreciative and loving gaze. Almost the same kind of look she had given Maura whose hand she had discreetly taken a hold of while Angela spoke and when she noticed the doctor getting choked up with emotion.

Welcome back, pang of jealousy.

Now as everyone hugs everyone else, says their goodbyes and one by one walks out the door, Jane and Maura are left alone with me.

Jane had told me over dessert that she would stay over at Maura's and I hadn't been able to find a suitable reason to object. At least nothing that wouldn't make me sound like the jealous, petty girlfriend that I felt myself to be right that moment.

"I really appreciate you hosting Sunday dinner tonight, Case," Jane whispers against my head as I am wrapped in her arms. "Everything was great, everyone had a great time. I'm sure Ma and Maura appreciated getting a break from the cooking and hosting." She kisses me to punctuate her words of gratitude.

"Dinner was wonderful," Maura tells me warmly once Jane releases me. "I loved the meatless Moussaka! You didn't have to go through all that trouble but I appreciate it nonetheless." I'm surprised when she hugs me, too, briefly but with sincere sentiment.

"It was truly my pleasure. I loved having everyone over," I tell them both, meaning every word despite the dread lodged somewhere in my chest, sitting there since Jane told me she wouldn't be spending the night. "I'd love to do it again."

"We will for sure, hon," Jane assures me, bringing my hand up to her mouth for a kiss. "We're gonna get going, I'll stop by before work tomorrow."

"Good night, Casey," Maura calls out, heading for the door to give me and Jane the privacy to say our goodbyes, ever the considerate one.

Which is why, despite her having a part in the torment I have been suffering through, I cannot hate the woman. It is impossible to hate Maura Isles. She has too much good in her.

"I don't have to be at work till around ten tomorrow," I inform Jane. She wraps her arms around my waist, fuses her mouth with mine again.

"Good, I'll stop by." Another kiss and she heads out the door. "Lock up, Case!" she calls out, forever the guardian of safety.

Despite my better judgment, my feet refuse to move away from the door. I observe Jane stride toward Maura, easily catching up. Her left arm casually drapes over the smaller woman's shoulders as she steers her toward the passenger side, opens the door, and carefully guides her in.

They both wave at me as the car pulls out of the driveway.

The dread lodged in my chest feels heavier, like it's expanding.

For a while tonight, I convinced myself I was a part of the family, one of them. And they probably do consider me as such, as big as their hearts are. But as I walk back in to my house, alone, I still find it difficult to believe that I am. I still feel like a mere hostess who had guests over and now the guests have left.

Still an outsider.

I let myself feel a bit of bitterness. I hate for it to be, but I feel it toward Jane. For not giving me enough of a foothold to feel like my place in her life is secure. Like I'm constantly skating on thin ice, the ground underneath me ready to give way at any moment.

But I hold on anyway, scrambling for footholds, grappling for anything to latch onto to keep me above ground.

Because I _so_ love her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But you never even see me, do you? And is this is my final chance of getting you?" Coldplay

**Chapter 7**

 

It's almost 7, I've barely been up an hour and my phone has rung at least 10 times. Every single call has been from Jane but strangely, I have not felt a particular impetus to pick up. Knowing Jane and how well she knows me, the wheels in her head should be turning maniacally right now. After all, it isn't often that I don't pick up after only one or two rings. I'm certain she's drawing up scenarios in her head from something as mundane as me sleeping through my alarm to something more frightening such as a serial rapist abducting me from my bed.

It gives me a guilt-inducing feeling of satisfaction, being - for once - Jane's object of worry.

My superego, however, is quite dominant and soon, guilt does creep up. I would have picked up this last call but my hands had felt leaden and refused to move the few inches it would have taken to grab the bothersome device.

Another beep, a text this time. I give up and finally pick up my phone. A text I can handle as it gives me time to think up a response. Time, which I feel like I need a good amount of in order to examine the situation from every angle. I could very well be missing something here. Something that would ease my worries, hopefully slow my heartbeat down to where it doesn't feel like there's a threat lurking in every corner, waiting to snatch my relationship with Jane away from me.

A threat in the form of a blonde genius of a doctor.

_everything ok, casey? getting worried. heading there if you don't pick up next call._

Like that would make me pick up.

She might not know me too well, after all. Or it could just be that she has no idea how much I want her here, with me. All the time, if possible, and regardless of reason.

I have lately been playing a most agonizing tug-of-war with my emotions. After the Sunday family dinner at my house, we'd gone back to our usual routine and had dinner or lunch whenever our busy schedules permitted. However, I have had an unabating compulsion to withdraw, to give myself a bit of a breathing room from Jane. Allow myself an opportunity to take a step back and get an objective view of our situation.

It's unsettling that I have started referring to our relationship as our "situation."

It's both unsettling and frightening as hell, having to think about where I stand in this triangle that is Jane-Maura-me sided.

There shouldn't even be a triangle. There should be all but two sides to my relationship with Jane - me and Jane.

My phone alerts me of another message and I don't even bother to check, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Jane again. Instead, I redirect my attention to the news on TV, desperate for a distraction.

It doesn't seem like the world's faring any better than I am though so I turn the TV off, lest this catalog of murders, rapes, mass killings and other atrocities the news anchor rattles off sends me spiraling directly to depression.

I decide it wouldn't hurt to leave early for work where there's never a shortage of problems to be solved. And because they don't involve a gorgeous brunette and second-guessing, they would be a welcome distraction. Within 20 minutes, I'm showered and almost dressed. I'm walking toward my kitchen to grab my requisite second cup of coffee when I hear the front doorknob rattling.

My chest instantly fills with a formidable mix of dread and excitement. Sure, I would have wanted a little bit more time to process my thoughts and feelings about whatever's going on with Jane and I but denying myself of her presence is something I'm incapable of.

I pour my second cup but don't turn around. I hear the familiar staccato of her steps approaching, hear them stop and I know her well enough that I'm quite certain she's right now leaning against the fridge, hands resting on her belt right after adjusting it in place - a habit I weirdly find very sexy. A girly giggle escapes me, unchecked.

"Care to let me in on the joke?" I hear her husk out from behind me. I take a deep breath, mirth all gone, and now somewhat exasperated both with myself and this contentious situation we're in.

I smile when I finally see her, standing just as I had imagined her to be posed. "Hey. No joke, I just...was playing a little guessing game with myself." I stay in place, letting her come to me.

And she does, approaching me with a look that's half-amused, half-preoccupied. She kisses me on the cheek but touches me nowhere else, my cup of hot coffee between us. "I was worried when you weren't picking up," she tells me quietly, unnecessarily. I figured that part out myself.

"Sorry, I…" I pause, wavering in my conviction to tell her the truth and finally take the lid off on this jar of issues and questions I've been slowly unscrewing the past few days. I make up my mind to be bold. "I didn't feel like talking," I tell her honestly, giving her a sheepish but not contrite smile. "I should have texted you back but...you said you'd come if I didn't and I thought well, that wasn't much of a threat - not to say that that's what you were doing, threatening me - it's just I really didn't mind the idea of you coming over and…" I pause to catch my breath, also catching her amused look.

"It's ok," she says mid-chuckle. "I wanted to see and talk to you anyway," she announces, causing my heart to pause a beat.

"You did? About anything in particular?" I ask, feeling her out. I rest my back on the kitchen counter, feeling a need to be propped.

She takes my cup and puts it down next to the coffee machine. She takes my hands in hers, crouches a bit to be able to catch my eyes. "Is everything ok, Case?" she asks finally. "I mean between us, are things ok between us?"

I expel a telling sigh, judging by the worry and anxiety now evident on her face. "I don't know, Jane. Are they?" I bounce the question back to her, knowing I'm not playing fair but wanting to buy myself some time. And maybe wanting Jane to be the one to take the lid off of this our shared jar of uncertainty.

"I'm not sure," she answers, surprising me. I thought she would call me out and prod me for an actual response. "I get the feeling there's something wrong. Something bothering you." She pauses, straightens out but does not let go of my hands. "I realize I haven't been the most attentive girlfriend lately. I mean with work," she pauses as if gauging for a reaction, " and taking care of Maura…" she pauses again, grimacing guiltily when she realizes she's hit the right answer, judging by the way I had tightened up at the mention of her best friend's name. "Is it...is it Maura? Am I spending too much time with her? Do you feel like I've been neglecting you?" she pushes gently.

I look her straight in the eyes, trying to communicate what my next words will confirm. "Yes, I feel like you have been spending too much time with Maura and Jane...I understand, you know I understand that Maura is your best friend and she's been sick and then she...she went through that horrible ordeal but…," I pause, unable to believe I am actually voicing a "but" in all this. "But...I'm your girlfriend, Jane. I have my needs too." I involuntarily pull my hands away from her, clenching and slightly shaking them in frustration. "Ugh, that sounds _so_ selfish. I hate feeling this way, Jane." I look up at her, pleading for her to understand this limbo I feel like I'm stuck in.

She reaches out to take me in her arms, wrapping me up in an embrace meant to be comforting and reassuring. "Hey, hey, don't beat yourself up. It's understandable you feel that way. If anyone's at fault here, it's me," she says against my hair. She pauses but continues to squeeze me tightly. "I have been neglecting you, Case, and I hope you believe me when I say I haven't meant to it's just…" she pulls away, her hands coming to grip my upper arms while her eyes, filled with guilt and anguish, try to catch mine. "It's just like you said...Maura is my best friend. And I'm the only one she has, Casey. I know she has her parents but she had to have been sick and dying for them to leave their lives in Europe and come see her."

What do I say to that? I am unable to come up with anything that would not make me sound like a petty, jealous girlfriend. And I hate that I now feel a mere inch tall, giving in to my jealousy.

Still, a deep-seated sense of self-preservation and pride reminds me that I deserve something from Jane. I deserve a share of the person I've committed to and who's likewise supposed to have committed herself to me.

"I'm sorry, Jane," I find myself apologizing after all. "I do understand that. It's silly of me to have even let that bother me…"

"Hey, no. It's not silly. I understand, Case. Just...I promise when things settle down, I will make it up to you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated," she vows with conviction, once again enveloping me in her arms. "You're an amazing person, Casey. And I am so sorry I have made you feel any less than that. I do love you."

Her arms around me feel comforting, warm. I feel a part of my heart that's been repeatedly hollowed out getting filled again.

I love this woman and I choose to believe her when she says she loves me. I trust that in time, things will settle down and she will return to me, whole.

I nod against her shoulder, communicating that I am coming to terms with the source of my unease. "Let's have lunch later?" I ask her quietly in an attempt to lighten the mood and at the same time, reconnect.

I feel her hesitate for a moment, but she replies in the affirmative anyway. "Sure, I'll meet you at Parish noon?"

"That sounds great," I reply, sliding my hands from around her back to allow me to pull her in for a kiss. "I'll text you a reminder."

She smiles with some embarrassment, knowing she has, on more than one occasion, needed a reminder. "That would be great. I might get too wrapped up. We're in the middle of a very…" she halts, once again looking particularly bothered, if not distressed, "...difficult case. Speaking of which, I have to go, I told Frost and Korsak I'd try to come in early."

"Ok. Can't wait to see you at lunch," I tell her, reluctantly letting go but not before I fuse my mouth with hers once again, constantly missing and craving her taste.

When I open my eyes, Jane's gazing at me with an intense look in her eyes. "Casey," she begins, tone more serious than is good for my just pacified nerves, "if it happens again and something's wrong and you're feeling like I'm neglecting you or doing anything that makes you feel...insecure or doubt our relationship, you'll tell me, right?" she verifies. "Please tell me, don't hold it in. You don't deserve that."

I nod to reassure her. "Of course. I promise." My answer seems to satisfy her and, with a quick press of her lips onto mine, she turns and leaves.

Once she's gone, I realize I won't make it to work early after all. I explore how I feel a bit and decide I actually feel more at ease that I've had in a while despite that last appeal for reassurance from Jane . If feels like the noose around my neck had been loosened. Unfortunately, it still hangs around my neck, slackened but ever present.

Mostly because the last thing Jane had asked of me had not felt very reassuring despite that being what I imagine her intent was - to reassure. It had felt too much like she was giving me an out.

* * *

Despite my niggling doubts, the short talk with Jane did reassure me immensely. We're supposed to meet for lunch but the text I had just received informed me that she would not make it.

She had to drive Maura to see her oncologist and did not seem like they would be able to leave in time. Apparently, the M.E. had been feeling more fatigued lately and her doctor wanted to run tests to make sure her cancer is not back. I, of course, replied that I understood and wished Maura well.

It would be impossible to deny that I had not been disappointed but my sincere concern for Maura's well-being trumped my upset. Jane promised to stop by after work and I figure that to be a worthy consolation. I decide to go ahead and go to the cafe we were scheduled to meet at anyway.

As I order my pasta salad, I find myself ordering Jane's pastrami sandwich, too. It would be nice to surprise her with a visit at work, something I haven't done in a while. I'm immediately cheered and excited by the thought but still take my time eating, figuring Jane would likely insist on taking Maura home to rest before returning to the station.

I get to the BPD not even half an hour later. After the process of getting my visitor sticker, I go upstairs to but find no sign of Jane at her desk. Vince and Frost inform me Jane had gone down with Maura to the basement.

"She didn't take Maura home?" I ask, surprised.

Both Vince and Barry chuckle, exchanging amused glances.

"No. But you can't say Jane didn't try," Barry proclaims.

"She just can't win against the doctor when she's determined," Vince pipes in. I notice the easy camaraderie between the two and realize this is part of why these two men easily fit into the Rizzoli family.

"Yeah, especially when we're in the middle of a case like this, there's no way Dr. Isles would not be here working her butt off, sick or not," Barry rattles off, evidently proud and in awe of the doctor's work ethic.

I nod and make a small sound of agreement. "Would I be allowed to go down there? I brought Jane her lunch since she couldn't make it to our lunch date."

Vince gets up from behind his desk and heads out the door, motioning for me to follow. "Come on, I'll take you there," he offers kindly, motioning toward the elevator. When we get to the basement, Vince' phone rings just as the elevator doors open. He lets me step out and points to his right, indicating which way Maura's office is. It sounds like he's being called urgently so I gesture to him that I'll be fine and send him on.

I walk the same way Vince had indicated but not before taking a quick glance the opposite direction and noticing a sign pointing to the morgue. Funny, I always thought the morgue would be Maura's office. I laugh to myself lightly as I walk toward Maura's _actual_ office. I see just one door on the other end of the hallway and figure that should be it.

As I approach, I hear voices, easily identifying Jane's throatier tone, pitch somewhat higher than usual. I initially guess they might be in the middle of an argument but when I don't hear another voice, I walk a little closer.

"Maur, please. You need to rest. I agreed to take you back here and not home but come on, take a nap at least. You look like you're about to fucking...sorry, you look like you're about to pass out from exhaustion," I hear Jane clearly pleading with her best friend. I halt my steps, deciding not to intrude and instead wait this apparent dispute out before announcing my presence.

I hear nothing for several seconds and reckon one of them must have given in. As I get closer I see through the crack in the door Jane crouched in front of Maura who sits on the couch. She's looking up at the doctor with imploring eyes, hands out in supplication. "Please?" I hear her ask quietly, eyes focused and beseeching but more playfully so than I had imagined earlier. It looks nothing like an argument.

I take a step back, realizing the matter hadn't been decided after all, and hear Maura sigh in resignation. "Fine, Jane. But only for an hour and you have to promise you will wake me then. Not a minute after and," I hear another pause, a few moments of silence, "I will rest only if you do, too. You've probably slept even less than I have this week, Jane." I listen to the doctor finish her pronouncement with authority, the initial timbre of amusement gone from her voice.

I take another step, about to knock and planning to say "hi" to both of them and then maybe whisk Jane away to let Maura take that nap Jane had been insisting on. I stop dead on my tracks, not seeing things as I had imagined. I imagined Maura would now be lying on the couch, Jane ready to leave her to sleep.

Instead I see the two have rearranged themselves on the couch. Jane sits on the far end. Maura is lying on her side across Jane's lap facing and curled into my girlfriend's chest, cradled like a child in her arms. I catch a glimpse of the doctor's face, visibly exhausted and already seemingly asleep. Only Jane's profile is visible to me but I don't need a view of her entire face to see the intensity of her gaze on the dozing blonde, their faces so close together.

I notice her furrowed brow and worried gaze, fingers stroking but looking like they barely touch Maura's hair, afraid to disturb her sleep. But then she lays her lips on Maura's forehead, appearing unable to resist. I step back, the gesture hitting me like a shove on the chest.

Maura stirs, I hear rustling. Jane is quick to soothe and reassure though. My curiosity pushes my head forward the tiny bit it takes for me to hear her shush the doctor reverently. And just enough to catch her kiss Maura's head, sigh deeply, and then lean back in this time to gently brush her lips over the blonde's bare shoulder.

My feet move on their own, pivoting away from the door. There is no way I can knock and announce my presence now.

I can barely find a way to take my next breath.

My throat is all choked up with something that feels painfully close to defeat. I've seen more than I've ever wanted to see. And gleaned the one idea I've tried, for the longest time, not to even consider.

Jane _could be_ in love with Maura.

* * *

How I managed to return to work afterward, I truly have no recollection of. I have been home a couple of hours now and been expecting to hear from Jane, imagining either Vince or Barry would have told her that I had been at the BPD to bring her lunch.

I'm tucked in under my sheets and truthfully do not really care whether Jane calls, texts, or comes over. I'm exhausted and bleary and only wish my brain would shut down long enough to afford me a few hours of sleep. Instead, all it does is play the scene in Maura's office on a loop and wonder where Jane is now. The thought of her being with Maura does not even add to my torment only because there's no room left for any more.

I try to rehash my usual litany of excuses for Jane's relationship with Maura, my go-to comforting thoughts, starting with a reminder that I am healthy and very much alive while Maura has come close to dying more than once and could still be very sick. I tell myself again, for the thousandth time, that Maura needs care and comfort, ignoring the fact that everyone seems to constantly remark about how strong and resilient she is.

I feel no comfort. What I feel is weariness and a strange sense of calm amid all this unease. Like the proverbial calm before the storm. My brain knows what my next step _should_ be. But it is my heart, that which I feel has taken enough, that wavers.

I just am not sure I can give up Jane, no matter what my brain tells me.

But it does help to know what I _should_ do. It's a step I've never managed to take before which tells me I have made gains in dealing with this. The thought gives me no comfort. But it does give me hope - not for the relationship but for my sanity at least.

Just as I think I'll be able to finally sleep, my phone rings and in my half-asleep state, I automatically pick up. It's Jane.

"Case," she says, not even bothering with a greeting. "Case, are you there?" she checks when she hears nothing from me. I manage a weak "yeah" which she takes as her cue to keep talking. "Case, I can't stop by tonight, the case we're working on has opened up and we'll likely be here all night. I'll be there early tomorrow morning though and I need you to promise you won't leave before I get there." She halts and I hear her talking to someone in the background. "Sorry, that was Vince. Anyway, I need you to just make sure your place is locked and wait for me in the morning, ok. You're fine, don't worry, it's just a precaution," she reassures me somewhat distractedly. "Just please, promise me you won't leave for work before I get there, ok."

I want to ask what the hell is going on but before I can say anything, Jane rushes off with a quick goodbye and apology, promising she'll make sense of this confounding conversation when she comes over.

I stare at my phone for several seconds, not quite sure if I had dreamt that exchange with Jane.

I sigh and realize it would be even harder to find sleep now.

* * *

I wish I could say Jane's call and cryptic instructions were enough of a distraction from what I consider the more pressing matter, the next step to take in our relationship, but it was not. I had lain awake till past two weighing out the pros and cons of every possible step I could take next.

I have resolved to, once and for all, ask Jane outright about her feelings toward Maura and the consequences on our relationship. It was never my plan to withhold from Jane that I had witnessed their intimacy in Maura's office yesterday. It will be brought up, among several other things.

By 6 I'm dressed and ready for work, thinking that if this conversation with Jane ends badly, I would be able to just leave without having to worry about the logistics of getting dressed and such. Besides, knowing Jane, her definition of "early" could vary anywhere from 4AM to 10 AM.

Sure enough, I hear a car pull up in the driveway and then footsteps approaching my front door. I take a peek through the peephole and am surprised to see Frankie with Jane.

The siblings appear to be engaged in serious conversation when I open the door, startling them both. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you guys," I smile at the haggard-looking pair.

"Oh, hi hon," Jane greets me first, Frankie waving a greeting from over her shoulder. She leans in to give me a quick kiss, seemingly eager to usher me inside. I move over to let them in, keeping a hand on Jane's arm to let Frankie pass. I shoot her a questioning look as soon as Frankie's a small distance away, slumped on the couch in obvious exhaustion. "Let's go sit down, I'll tell you everything," Jane leads me toward the couch with a hand on my elbow.

"Wait," I halt her progress, tugging on the tail of her blazer which is all I manage to catch. She gives me a tired smile, her features a mixture of curiosity and restlessness. "Will we have time to sit down and talk later? Just us," I ask almost whispering, not wanting Frankie to be embarrassed and feel like he's intruding.

Jane is quite obviously hesitant. "We'll make time, ok. I'm just...we're kind of in the middle of something really important in the case we're working on right now. But...I'll make time, of course," she says, what's written on her face not quite matching her reassuring words. "Let's go sit down and let me tell you what's going on."

Frankie moves over to the recliner while Jane and I sit on the couch. Jane takes a deep breath, heightening my anxiety. I still have absolutely no clue what this is all about.

My girlfriend takes both my hands in hers and then shifts them so that her palms are facing up, my hands resting lightly on hers. "I know you've been curious about my hands, Casey…" she begins, tone sombre and uncertain. She proceeds to tell me about how she got the scars on her hands and, more importantly, who had put them there, how he's involved in their current case, and the threat he poses.

"But I thought you had put him in jail?" I question, a little more enlightened yet still feeling a bit lost and confused.

"Yes, we did. But he has...ways. Apprentices, things like that. I don't really want to get into too much detail, Case. All you need to know is his M.O.," she tells me firmly, trying to keep me focused. "He targets couples to instill more fear. He kills, rapes the wife in front of husband...I'm sorry," she pauses, laying a comforting hand on my thigh, "I know it's hard to hear but I just want to give you an idea why I'm concerned. He targets couples and he...he hates me. He has a bone to pick with me and because of that, I want...we want to be careful. Vince and I feel it's in your best interest, you being my girlfriend, that someone stay with and keep an eye on you for the time being. Just until we sort things out and make sure he doesn't have the means to hurt anyone."

It makes sense to me now, Frankie's presence. He must be here to watch over me, protect me should there be a threat. In spite of the gravity of the situation, I find the prospect of Frankie following me around a tad amusing. "So I'm guessing Frankie's gonna be my bodyguard?" I turn toward the younger Rizzoli, shooting him a teasing smile. He sends me an "at your service" salute in reply. We both chuckle at the situation.

"I'm glad you two find this amusing," Jane quips, smiling slightly but evidently still in stern detective mode.

"Come on, Jane, I have to find a way to not let this drive me insane," I reason with her. "I mean, this is quite a bit to take in, don't you think?" That earns me a guilty look from her.

"Of course. I'm sorry, Casey. You wouldn't even be in this situation if not for me," she rasps out, her exhausted eyes clouded even more with guilt.

"Hey," I put a finger under her chin, lifting her distraught face up toward me, "no. No, Jane. Don't go there. _I knew_ what I signed up for when I fell in love with you. This...this is part of it and you should give me more credit than that. There's no way I'm blaming you for this, ok. You haven't done anything wrong. You're doing everything right, trying to protect me." I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her, my own emotions intensifying. My words intended to reassure her may have been meant for my own ears, my own heart, to hear too.

"Thank you, Casey."

Frankie clears his throat behind me, effectively putting an end to the moment we're having. "Uh, sorry to interrupt but Janie, it's almost 8, you gotta be at the infirmary soon and you still have to pick up Maura."

The mention of the doctor's name snaps me back to reality. I reckon there wouldn't be time for my questions now. I wouldn't even think of bringing them up when Jane is clearly preoccupied, almost obsessively so, with this case. It explains why she seems to have been suffused with anxiety these past few days, on edge and uneasy.

It also explains why Maura had been so insistent on staying at work yesterday. It also gives new meaning to what she had witnessed at the M.E.'s office. It may have appeared like it had been Jane comforting Maura but it had probably gone both ways, the doctor keeping her best friend close as a means to comfort. Acquiescing to Jane's entreaty may have been meant to take the edge off the brunette.

It makes more sense now. And hurts that little bit more, finding one more thing to validate just how much they rely on each other - almost to the exclusion of others around them.

Almost as an afterthought, I ask, "Where are you and Maura going?"

I catch the glare Jane sends Frankie's way and know instantly he has divulged something she hadn't meant for me to know. "Uhm...we're…" she stalls and I prod her with a look, "We're meeting with Hoyt."

"You're what?! Are you crazy, Jane?" I cry out in disbelief. "Why would you even want to see him, be in the same room as that lunatic after everything you've gone through with him?"

"Case…" Jane pleads, attempting to calm me with gentle hands on my arms, "It'll be ok, it's in a secure place, there's going to be a guard, and he'd be chained and cuffed. There's no way he could touch me. I won't let him," she reassures me. "As soon as we feel he's yanking our chain, we won't even waste our time, we're gone." Her words do work to reassure me. As scared as I am for Jane, I trust her skills as a detective and given their history, I know she would be extra careful.

"It's not like I can say anything to stop you anyway," I remind her, reaching up to give her another kiss. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise."

I can't help the heaviness in my heart as I watch her leave. Before she can run off, I grab her by the elbow and pull her towards me for another kiss. "I love you, Jane. Be careful, please," I whisper against her lips.

"You too, Case. And I promise, I'll be back in one piece," she tells me, reassuring me with a confident smile I know masks her own anxiety.

It's only when I'm watching her drive off that I realize I hadn't even asked why Maura, who is not a detective, would be going with her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I guess I never loved you quite as well  
> As the way you loved me  
> I guess I'll never really be able to tell you how sorry I am  
> Sorry I am  
> I am  
> Sorry I am.   
> Sorry I am.  
> Sorry I am..."
> 
> Ani DiFranco

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 8**

 

With the unbelievable events unraveled this morning, I ultimately decided not to go to work. Having people I trust to hold down the fort when I'm not in and being the boss has its perks. Frankie was in complete agreement, mostly due to the fact that me being home would make his job so much easier. He expressed surprise that Jane had not thought to suggest - or insist on, given how Jane is - that move herself.

"Would you like to sleep for a bit in the guest bedroom, Frankie? You look like you've hardly slept at all," I offer this man who reminds me so much of the woman I love.

"Nah," he waves me off. "I'd rather stay out here where I'm closer to the front door. If you don't mind, I'll just watch Sports Center or something," he asks with a raise of his Rizzoli eyebrows.

"Oh, by all means. I'll get you pillows and a blanket so you can get comfy on the couch. And please, help yourself to anything in the fridge or kitchen, ok." He hasn't been over too many times but enough that I'm certain he would be able to find his way around my kitchen.

"Ok, thanks so much, Casey. I'll grab a water or something."

"I do have beer in there, you know," I suggest, smiling. "I'm sure Jane wouldn't mind sharing."

He chuckles at that, rolling his eyes. "She better not."

I leave him with another smile and return with an armful of pillows and a blanket which I place on one end of the couch. He returns from the kitchen with a beer and a plate of a few pizza slices.

"Is this ok? I found the pizza and figured this would be Janie's leftover." I detect a mild tint of red on his cheeks and hint of embarrassment in his voice.

"Yup, Jane's leftovers indeed. She barely touched it, I think. Help yourself to the rest of it and whatever else you can find in there. Is it alright if I stay in my room, I just need to make a few calls?" I figured the polite thing to do would be to at least ask.

"Sure, sure. I'll be here if anything comes up, ok. I think we'll be good but, you know…" he shrugs in that familiar Frankie way, "just in case."

"Thanks, Frankie," I tell him, indeed grateful for his presence. "I really do appreciate you doing this, I'm sure Jane didn't give you much of a choice."

Again, he waves my apology away. "Hey, I wanted to do it, ok. For you and for Janie," he states simply, returning my smile.

I smile gratefully at him and turn to head toward my room with a small wave.

Amid all this turmoil, I finally realize I need back-up, a sounding board and an objective and wise voice to give me some direction. I've been pretty much estranged from my mom since I came out and had my first formal girlfriend, at least one that I introduced to her, in college. My dad I haven't seen since he left us when I was in 5th grade. No siblings, maybe half-sisters or brothers from my dad I'll likely never meet.

But I have my Nana. And she's all the family I need. It's a shame she doesn't live closer but I take comfort in the fact that, other than calling, I can easily drive or fly to see her.

The phone call I had been talking to Frankie about was the phone call I had decided last night to make to Nana, reckoning that she would give me the best insight. Not only is she wise, objective, and non-judgmental - she knows Jane, too. They may have only met twice face-to-face, but I've told her enough about Jane that, with those two meetings counted, I know she has a pretty good read on Jane.

I barely hear a second ring when Nana's beloved voice reaches my ears. "Hello?" Her voice does sound like home, embracing me with so much remembered warmth and love.

"Hi, Nana!" I call out with much thrill, channeling the six year old who always waited excitedly for her weekend visits.

"Hello, my love! How are you, Casey?" she asks me after that familiar deep, husky laugh I'd always easily extracted from her.

"I'm...alright, Nana." It has always been impossible to lie to or hide anything from her. She's always managed to detect the slightest lilt in my voice or some odd gesture she says are unusual that tells her something's off.

"Hmm. So what's really going on, Casey May?" Ah, she's brought out my middle name. She knows something's up. And it's not that I had made this call with no intention of telling her about my relationship woes.

It's just not easy talking about it.

Especially when I haven't fully grasped the situation myself. Which is why I'm calling Nana anyway. She always manages to sift through the sediments that muddle up my perception of problematic situations, leaving me with just the barest essence of things. She always leaves me to figure out the resolution though, she never tells me what to do or why, just gently steers me toward it.

I breathe in a lungful of air and expel what feels like twice the amount. "Oh, Nana. I just...a lot. A lot seems to be wrong," I blurt out, already feeling the prickle of moisture behind my eyes.

"Oh, my darling Casey. Tell me about it. I'm sure it's not anything we can't figure out," she reassures me quite convincingly. When she says it, I somehow tend to believe it. Such is the amount of trust I have on her. She is, literally, my lifeline. "Is it Jane?" she asks knowingly, and it doesn't really surprise me that that would be her first guess. She knows that my life right now pretty much revolves around Jane.

"Yes...yes, Nana, it's about Jane. I'm…" I hesitate briefly, not quite sure where to start, "...I'm just so confused and lost. I feel like I've lost my place in our relationship. I don't know where I am and where I stand anymore." And I proceed to tell her everything as she listens quietly, occasionally commenting and encouraging me to go on. I tell her about Maura. I tell her about our little tiff when Jane and I visited her months ago which was over Maura and the first sign of what would be the doctor's seeming omnipresence in our relationship. I tell her about progression of events in the last few weeks and months, my growing insecurity and unease.

"Oh Casey, love. Why have I not heard about this Maura before? I vaguely remember Jane mentioning a friend who was sick but I never realized how important she is in her life."

"I don't know...I think I may have avoided talking about her to you because I just didn't want to acknowledge it to myself either, Nan," I admit to her, opening up one wound from many that I'm realizing I would need to expose if I were to have any hope of them mending.

I have kept far too many wounds covered up, festering and keeping them from healing, when I should have opened and aired them out. Given them a chance to heal.

"Do you think Jane is in love with her? Do you think Jane has _always been_ in love with her?" Nana will ask the questions that needed asking, no matter how painful. It isn't easy to take but I appreciate it from her.

"I don't really know, Nana. I think Jane might be...falling in love with Maura. But I truly don't believe even Jane realizes it. And I hate the thought of being the one to even point it out to her. It's like stabbing myself with my own knife."

"So you'd rather not know and keep suffering as you are now?" she asks gently.

I realize I've started to cry, the bandages on my wounds getting peeled off bit by painful bit.

"I need to know, Nana. I realize that now. It's just not easy, it's unbelievably terrifying. I'll be jumping off a cliff not knowing whether I'll be landing on water or on rocks. I'm just so scared to know, Nana," I cry to her like a child. "What if she _is_ in love with Maura? I'm so afraid of losing her, I love her so much."

"Oh, darling darling Casey. I wish I could be there right now to give you my biggest hug. And I wish I had a way to fix all this for you but we both know, only you can resolve this. And it might involve being hurt in the process but...it could also be the only way you will find peace and happiness, my love." Hearing the words "hug" and thinking about her arms around me and her familiar smell makes me cry even harder.

"I know, I wish you were here with me, too, Nana." I cry for a few minutes, Nana's coos and soothing words gradually calming me down.

"May I ask you something else, Casey?"

"Of course, Nan," I tell her as I take a sip of water from the glass I'm glad I had thought to bring with me in here.

"Is this Maura in love with Jane?" I suck in air at this question I had never thought to ask myself.

"Wow, uhm...the honest answer would be that I really have no idea, Nana," I begin even as my brain thinks back to every moment I have observed them together. "I'm pretty sure she loves and cares deeply for Jane. Jane is her best friend, after all, and practically the only family she has but...I haven't really thought about whether she could be in love with Jane."

"Fair enough. I just wanted to know," she states after a few beats of silence, sounding objective and matter-of-fact. "It is not quite as relevant as whether Jane is in love with her or not anyway."

"She has always been...nice and kind toward me. She actually is a wonderful person, Nana," I acknowledge. "Jane does spend quite a bit of time with her, always have, even before she got sick, even before she met me, I guess. But I always figured it's also the nature of their work that calls for that. She's actually been somewhat apologetic a few times when Jane has had to be with her and leave me."

"Well, it would probably be easier for other people if the competition, so to speak, was a horrible person and someone easy to dislike or despise but...I don't think it will be for you. You see the good in people and even after everything you've been through, child, it's the one trait I'm most proud of in you," she tells me with so much affection and love I just want to hop on the next plane and burrow myself in her warmth for days and days and come out when all this has resolved. "It will make it harder maybe to protect yourself but in the end, it will make it that much easier to forgive and move on...if the situation demanded forgiveness and moving on."

"Thank you, Nana. I love you so much," I say through tears.

"I love you too, my dear child." I hear her loving voice tell me as I wipe the tears that won't stop falling now. "But just talk to Jane. Ask her and prepare yourself for what the answer will be. I trust that you will listen to her and know the right thing to do. Jane is a good person, I could tell that from the first time I met her. I would not be very happy if you end up hurt, even more than you are now, after all of this. But I will understand that she would not deliberately hurt you. As I think you do."

"She is a good person, Nana. I wouldn't have fallen in love with her if I hadn't realized that early on. And no, as much as she's hurting me now, I really do believe she would never deliberately hurt me," I tell her and myself, too.

Through all this, I never once failed to remind myself of this. Jane would _not_ knowingly hurt me. Which is why I _have_ to let her know that she is and then and only then could we start moving on toward where all the pain and hurting, no matter how unintentional, would stop.

"Which is also why you have to be open to the possibility that it is that goodness that would keep her from ever abandoning her best friend, especially in time of need. It would not be right for you to make her choose, Casey, no matter how hurt you're feeling. And I know you, you would never think to do that, I just thought a little reminder wouldn't hurt."

I feel a bit shamed, knowing I have entertained such thoughts of giving Jane an ultimatum to choose between me and Maura. But it had been the pain talking...or thinking. I would never do that to Jane.

"I won't, Nana. I promise." And it is one promise I intend to keep.

"OK, but talk to her and don't wait too long. I hate knowing you're hurting and unhappy. I love you, Casey," she tells me in parting before we both hang up and after I had promised her a visit soon.

I know what to do, it is now just a matter of finding the courage and fortitude to do it.

I gave myself plenty of time to wash up and compose myself before walking out, intending to make lunch for both me and Frankie.

When I walk out, I see Frankie on the phone, pacing anxiously in my living room. I stop at the end of the hall, intending to give him some privacy. When I hear Jane's name, I am unable to resist taking a step closer.

I figure out that it is Barry on the other end of the line, receiving Frankie's rapid fire questions. When I hear the word "hurt" my heart stops. I know exactly where Jane had been headed this morning and with everything I had learned and the obvious concern in Frankie's voice and features, I am immediately concerned and frightened.

My feet move on their own, bringing me to stand close to Frankie who doesn't even seem to notice my presence, completely focused on the phone conversation. When he does finally notice me, he stops and touches my elbow lightly, gesturing for me to take a seat. He also smiles, albeit clearly forced, and gives me a thumbs up while mouthing "Jane's ok."

I fall onto the couch, together with the breath I finally am able to let out.

"Thanks, man. Take care of her, please. Take care of _them_ and give them both a big hug from me, ok." By the time Frankie ends the call, he's seated next to me, visibly shaken.

"What happened?" I ask simply, eager for news.

He runs a hand down his face before angling himself toward me.

"Jane and Maura were hurt," he begins, quickly holding a hand up when I react with shock, a hand flying up to my mouth. "It's nothing major, they're both fine. Barry says they just got a little nick on the neck. And I think Maura may have been tasered. But they're fine otherwise."

"But how did that happen? I thought there would be security precautions in place? Wasn't there a guard with them?" I question, clearly remembering Jane's earlier reassurance.

"Well…" Frankie hesitates, "that's the thing. The guard who was with them...was Hoyt's apprentice." Clearly still flustered, Frankie shakes in head in disbelief. "They were alone, Jane and Maura, with two monsters."

My eyes close in distress, finding it hard to imagine how much worse it could have been. And what had happened that the two had only ended up with minor injuries. "How did they get out of it then? How did they get hurt in the first place? I'm sure Jane had her gun."

"Apparently, the guard got Maura and Hoyt had Jane. Maura was tasered and when…" Frankie halts, disturbed by the image in his head. "The guard had her down and when he was about to hurt her, with a scalpel I think, Jane just somehow managed to get away from and subdue Hoyt and the guard was shot by Vince. Thank god Vince got there in time."

"What happened to Hoyt?" I ask, curious if Jane's tormentor is back behind bars.

Frankie looks at me, anger and pride in his features. "Jane killed that bastard."

I gasp in surprise, latently feeling an uncomfortable feeling of relief. "Oh, Jane. My poor Jane, she must be out of her mind right now."

"She's fine, just in a bit of shock, according to Barry."

"I'm just so relieved she wasn't hurt worse," I say more to myself. I realize I had omitted the other woman involved in the situation. "I'm relieved _they_ weren't hurt worse, Maura too, of course. That poor woman can't catch a break. My god, she could have been killed, Frankie."

He turns to me with a grim smile. "Jane wouldn't have let Maura get hurt, Casey," he says quietly. "There's just no way she would have, not if she had a chance to do something. Even if she hadn't, she would have found a way."

I smile and nod in agreement although internally, my heart continues its disintegration.

It only just now occurs to me, this monster's M.O.

_He targets couples to instill more fear. He kills, rapes the wife in front of husband._

Is that what he had been planning? Was that why Maura was there? Did he want her there, intending to go after the doctor first, perform horrific acts to her while Jane watched?

Did he know something we had all been too blind to see? That the most important person, Jane's other half, is Maura.

It might not make complete sense, may have been complete coincidence, but I have no wish to verify. Coincidence or not, the glaring fact is that even if it had been the first time this monster had witnessed Jane and Maura together, he had smelled the connection between them. He somehow deduced that nothing would terrify and aggrieve Jane more than the prospect of Maura dying.

But maybe he had underestimated it, leading him to be more bold. What had led to his demise may have been him miscalculating the lengths to which Jane would go just to ensure Maura's safety.

It should placate me, that he may have made a misstep that cost him his worthless life and saved Jane's, but it does not.

All I feel is more of what has filled my heart of late.

Fear.

Dread.

Resignation.

"Where is Jane now?" I ask Frankie, more as an afterthought.

"They're probably at Maura's," he informs me. "They both refused to go to the hospital so…" Frankie drifts off, distracted by an incoming call.

"Oh. Of course she would," I say absentmindedly.

"Janie?" I hear Frankie say. "Thank god you guys are ok. Good work there, sis. We can all breathe easier with that monster gone."

I can make out Jane's voice replying. I lightly tap Frankie's thigh to get his attention, gesturing my desire to talk to Jane.

"Yeah, Casey's fine, she's right here next to me," Frankie pauses, clearly listening, "Yeah, I gave her the gist of what happened. She wants to -" Again, he halts, "Ok, I'll tell her. Take care, Jane. And give Maura a hug for me, too, alright."

I raise my eyebrows in question, wondering why I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Jane.

"Sorry, Casey. She had to run off, so much going on. They're still at the scene, wrapping up. She said she'll call you as soon as things settle down." He gives me an apologetic look and I wave it off, understanding that he had just been the messenger.

"No worries, I'm ok just knowing she's fine," I reassure him.

* * *

I don't hear from Jane until now, close to midnight.

"Hi, Casey," she greets after I pick up on the fourth ring, weariness evident in her voice.

"Hey. Are you ok, Jane?" I put my laptop down on the bed next to me, putting away the movie that had been my distraction.

"Yeah, I'm ok. I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier. Things were just...crazy," she pauses and I can visualize her long, slender digits combing through her curls. "Frankie told you what happened, right?"

"Yeah, he did," I reply quickly. "I would have liked to have heard your voice though. Especially after hearing that you were hurt." I keep my voice controlled, willing the irritation away.

She sighs on the other end. "I know, but I'm ok. I don't know what to say, Casey. Except I'm really sorry. It...I was just in shock for a while there, I think," she tries to explain. "Casey…" she pauses. Her breathing, a little ragged and erratic, tells me she's grappling with emotions right now. "Casey, I watched Maura almost die. _Those bastards almost killed her._ "

"They almost killed you too, Jane!" I could no longer check my emotions, tired of Jane valuing the doctor's life over hers, disregarding us...me, who values hers more than anyone else'. "Or do you really not care about whether you live or die anymore? Do you really only care about whether Maura does or not?" I realize my voice had been thick with jealousy but didn't care anymore. The time for holding emotions in has passed.

"Of course I do, Casey. But it's Maura...she's more i...in my job, I have to put everyone else before myself."

_Especially Maura._

I pause a moment, measuring my words. "I understand that, Jane. I really do, or I would never have been with you. It's just...I was really worried and I wanted to hear your voice," I admit to her simply. "And I understand you had to be there for Maura. I understand she may have needed you but I really just wanted to hear you're ok...from you."

"I'm sorry, Casey. I really am."

"How is Maura?" I find myself asking, and not just out of duty but genuine concern.

"She's ok," Jane replies quickly. "A little shaken but...she's tough. Maura's the stronger between the two of us, Case," she declares with such pride and affection.

"That's good to hear, Jane. Well, I should let you rest." I realize I don't even know where she's calling from. "Are you home?"

"No, I'm at Maura's," she says quietly, a bit rueful.

"Well then, drive safely, ok. That's if you're planning to go home." I add as an afterthought, realizing too late there's no way she would plan on going home this late.

"No, I think I'll spend the night here. I think...I think both Maura and I could use the company."

"Ok, goodnight Jane. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Take care of yourself." I couldn't help the sadness that has crept into my voice. It frustrates me that I am unable to demand more from Jane. It's just not in me.

"Goodnight, Case. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow, Jane. Tomorrow, we'll talk."

* * *

I wake up with the strangest impulse - to go and talk to Jane and Maura, hash this situation out once and for all. The only thought holding me back is the idea that it might be too soon, their previous days' experience too fresh for me to lay open this new area of quandary bare before them.

But I'm tired. Tired of waiting and putting my own peace of mind second to theirs. It might be the best time, after all. I imagine Hoyt may have made them reflect on their relationship, the same way I have. It may have opened their eyes - if they weren't already - to what they are to each other that someone, albeit a deranged psychopath, who barely knew them was able to appreciate their connection.

So I make up my mind to head over to Maura's. At the very least, if I cop out on the plan to talk to them both, I can pick up Jane and get some time alone with her.

Resolved, I quickly shower and get dressed, planning to stop for coffee and pastries to bring over to Maura's. Weirdly enough, I feel but a scant amount of nerves. The talk with Nana has really helped clear my head and given me a path to go down on, regardless of whether it ends in heartbreak or joy.

I just need resolution.

I send Jane a text giving her a heads up on my plans, about an hour's warning. It's almost seven and I'm quite certain both of them would be up by the time I get there.

As I pull up in front of Maura's house, I catch Angela rushing towards the main house, paper bag in hand. I wave to catch her attention.

"Hi, Casey! It's good to see you. Are you here to visit Maura?" she calls out to me, dynamic and lively as usual.

"Yeah. And Jane's here, too." I give her a hug and a kiss on her cheek when I reach her.

"Oh perfect then, I'm already late for work. I was just going to drop off these bagels. Why don't I let you in and you can deliver them for me, sweetie?" she asks even as she's already unlocking Maura's front door, my response a mere formality apparently.

"Uh, sure, I guess." She ushers me in, gives me a quick hug, turns and practically runs toward her car.

"Janie's probably in the guest room if she's not lounging in front of the TV," she advises, waving goodbye.

I find myself in the living room, caught a bit off guard, not quite the entrance I had imagined. I put the coffee, pastries, and Angela's bagels down on the kitchen counter.

"Jane?" I call out quietly, hoping she would be awake and have heard all the commotion. I mean Angela's voice is pretty hard to miss. I call out a couple more times and get no response. I take a chance and walk toward where I know the guest bedroom to be. The door is closed and without hesitation, I gently turn the knob and peek in, expecting Jane or a sign of her presence at least. She could be in the shower. Nothing. The bed is made, obviously not slept on.

I walk back out toward the living room, taking my phone out to call Jane. I am aware Maura's bedroom is upstairs but have no intention of heading there. My call goes straight to Jane's voicemail leaving me a little flustered and unsure what to do now, stuck in this head-scratcher. They could very well have gone out for a walk or a run and be back any minute now. The idea of them walking in on me wandering around the doctor's house makes up my mind for me. I'm heading back out and waiting in my car.

I'm about to leave when I hear a door opening upstairs and then voices.

"Jane, you should go. Casey's waiting for you. Go to her, Jane," I clearly hear Maura say. Despite my better judgment, I stay rooted to the spot.

"Maura, we can't pretend that didn't happen." Jane's agitated voice trickles down to where I'm standing.

_Pretend what didn't happen?_

"Maura, you kissed me back. Don't deny that please. I told you, I'm...this isn't something I can ignore anymore. It's not fair to Casey. And it's not fair to you or me. I told you my feelings for you have been changing and no, it's not because I feel sorry for you. God, it's not even close to being just that."

"Jane, stop it!" I hear Maura's voice trembling, like she's trying not to cry. "Casey loves you,. Ad you love her. And she's...she's healthy and she's strong and she adores you. She's waiting for you and she has her entire life she's willing to spend with you."

"I love her, Maura, or I wouldn't have tried and stayed with her. But Maur...I'm _in love_ with you," I barely hear Jane appeal. "It's taken me this long to realize it but now that I do, I'm not ignoring it. Like I said, it's not fair to Casey and it's not fair to me."

Through the ringing in my ears, my brain registers Maura's sobs. Or they could be mine, as I realize I am now crying, too.

"She loves you, Jane, and you have a life with her. And I...who knows how much longer I'll be around? My cancer could come back tomorrow and if it's not my cancer, it could be something or someone else that kills me. I don't want to leave you without knowing someone will be taking care of you because I love you so so much, Jane."

"Oh, Maura. I love you, too. So much more than you're willing to accept from me."

Those words finally break me. I couldn't stand to hear more so I run, not mindful of how loud my steps are, I run out the door, all thought toward escaping.

I'm almost at my car when I hear a familiar voice calling my name.

Jane. "Casey, stop please. Please, hear me out." I stop and rest my head on my car, knowing full well I would not be able to ignore her.

"I did hear you, Jane," I save her the trouble of having to ask me.

"God, I'm sorry Casey. I didn't mean for you to find out that way. I promise you I've been planning to talk to you about this." She tries to go around toward me but I hold a hand up to halt her progress. I motion for her to get in the car.

This is what you came for, right? I ask myself. And it's exactly what I'm getting, the answers to my questions.

I get into the driver's seat as Jane settles in heavily next to me.

"Casey…"

"How long, Jane?"

"Wha-No, it's not like that, Casey," Jane reaches a hand out to my arm and I shake it off, not caring whether I hurt her feelings in the process. I just could not stand to be touched right now, especially by her.

"I heard you, Jane," I remind her again. "You love her," I say through the lump in my throat.

Next to me, Jane lets out a sound between a whimper and a sob. "I didn't mean for it to happen, Casey. You have to believe that. I...I didn't even realize it till...till after Dennis almost killed her."

In my periphery, I see her almost violently run her fingers through her hair.

When Dennis almost killed her. It takes me a moment to remember the psychopath sculptor. The Sunday dinner at my house had been just right after that incident. The signs had been there but I had tried resolutely to rationalize my way through them.

"God, I wish I didn't feel this way, Casey. I love you, I really do. I care about you so so much but I...I just-"

"You can't help how you feel, Jane. You can't. As much as I wish you loved me the way you love Maura, you don't and I can't make you. I think I may have known for a while, I just didn't want to believe it. If I weren't so in love with you, it would've been so much easier to let you go. But I see it now, Jane. This, us, it's not meant to be. It took me a while but I can accept it now."

"I'm so so sorry, Casey…" Jane trails off into sobs and my heart would have broken for how tormented she sounds had it not already been in pieces. "You've been there with me through all this, I don't know how I would have survived these last few months without you and now I pay you back by hurting you."

"We can't help who we love, Jane," I find myself consoling her, my hand reaching out toward her back. "It's taken me a while but I realize now I never really stood a chance against Maura. You know Nana taught me this phrase she had learned from an old boyfriend. He said he hated playing gooseberry when he would tag along on his friends' dates..." I trail off, thoughtful. "I feel like I've been playing gooseberry, Jane." I watch her face crumple in distress at my words which I knew would hurt to hear but, I feel, had to be said. "I've been the third wheel and with the two of you, I know now I will always be."

And I do realize it now. The only chance I may have is with Maura out of the picture and I couldn't wish that kind of pain on Jane. Truthfully, even if she were to no longer be in the picture, I don't believe I would be able to compete with Maura's ghost anyway.

I reach over and take the this distraught woman I still so love in my arms. "I deserve better, Jane," I whisper against her hair, not intending my words to be hurtful or bitter. I know she understands what I'm trying to say. "I think I deserve to be loved completely. As do you, Jane. You deserve to be loved by the one you love most," I whisper close to her ear. "We both deserve better."

"You are an amazing person, Casey." Jane pulls away to look me straight in the eyes. "I have no doubt you'll find someone so much better than me who will love you and treat you so much better than I have."

I smile at her, remembering Nana's words. Jane is a good person and I do believe she had no intention of deliberately breaking my heart. "Take care of Maura, Jane. She's your one real shot at happiness. I really believe that. Please don't wait till she's dying again or till her life's in danger before you tell her. You're lucky enough to have found your soul mate. I can't hold you back from that."

I rest my head against her shoulder, feeling weariness set in.

"Thank you, Casey. You are the most generous human being I'll ever know. And you'll find someone who'll deserve you. It's not me, I don't deserve even half of you. But someone will."

I press my lips against her damp cheek and then over her mouth, lingering for what could be the last time.

"Go back to Maura, Jane."

* * *

I know I have done the right thing, for everyone concerned, not just for myself. And I had done it without being bitter and spiteful. I had remained calm, even compassionate, just the way Nana would have wanted me to be.

But it hurts.

I was not naive enough to believe it wouldn't, but the pain is more than I ever expected. The moment I step through my front door, memories of Jane hit me from every direction. The couch she loved to lounge on, the kitchen counter we shared meals at, the hallway leading to my bedroom.

She's everywhere. And yet I no longer have her.

I barely last a minute inside before I find myself heading out.

I need space.

I need to breathe.

I need my Nana.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Goodbye my hopeless dream." A Fine Frenzy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be some who will feel some disappointment with how well (i.e. sans hostility/rage/anger) Casey dealt with the break up and all that. But this Casey does exist in real life. ;) This is my Casey. And as much as I love Rizzles, Casey's my fave character in this story (which you might find hard to believe considering how much I love hurting her. lol)

**Chapter 9**

 

I had almost driven straight to Nana's after turning around and leaving my house yesterday. I tried calling her several times but didn't hear back from her until late afternoon. I had forgotten that she volunteered at the hospital on Fridays.

She refused to have me drive in the condition I had been in, crying and clearly distraught. My wise ol' Nana told me to get a good night's sleep and pack for a few days because she wanted me to spend the weekend and whatever days I can get off next week with her in Bridgeport. I agreed, mostly because I had been exhausted when I finally got home and frankly, just did not have much emotional muscle left to argue against pretty much anything. A Salvation Army solicitor could have knocked at my door, asked for a thousand dollars and my only reply would have been, "Who do I make the check out to?"

I was that sapped. Just weary and, emotionally, sealed tight in a vacuum.

I really, really wanted to go be with my Nana though because the thought of being alone at home last night terrified me. I had not wanted to sleep.

I was terrified I would wake up and want Jane back.

Worse, I was terrified I would want her back because I harbored hope that I _could_ get her back.

I needed Nana to keep me grounded, tethered to reality.

My biggest fear was that I had been going about this grieving process in reverse. Acceptance seemed to have come easily. I had left Maura's house recognizing that my relationship with Jane was over. We had broken up, she was no longer mine.

A little too easy.

My fear had been that I would wake up thinking I hadn't fought hard enough and feel like I can convince Jane we had a chance. And then actually go after her.

My fear was such that I hadn't wanted to go to sleep, regardless of how painful every waking moment had been.

But I did sleep eventually. And woke up hurting, heart nowhere near put back together, still fully aware I had lost Jane to Maura.

And no, I didn't wake up wanting to drive off to Maura's to reclaim Jane. Thank god for small favors.

Now, I sit at my kitchen counter, watching the play of light on my window, filling my mind with mundane matters to keep it from veering toward weighty, oppressive ones. I'm dressed, packed, and about to finish my second cup of coffee before I hit the road to Bridgeport. In less than three hours, I get to have Nana's arms wrapped around me, shielding me from Boston and Jane and Maura and the pain they've imposed on me.

I let the last sip of dark coffee trickle down my throat, savoring its bitterness. My cup goes in the sink, for once it will be left unwashed. I'm granting myself these little favors. I deserve a truckload of them, I feel.

As soon as I've slung my duffel over my left shoulder and grabbed my car keys, I hear a knock on my door.

I freeze on the spot. Normally, I wouldn't think it would be Jane because Jane would not knock, she would use her key to get in. But under the circumstances, I guess she would.

I look down at my feet, checking to make sure there are no 50 pound balls and chains tied to them considering how heavy they feel. I manage to take the few steps toward my door and peek through the peephole.

Maura.

It's Maura standing on the other side. My initial thought is worry, concern. Had something happened to Jane?

I quickly unlock and open the door, met with a face I imagine must resemble mine. I'm pretty sure we're sporting matching tear tracks and bloodshot eyes.

"Casey…"

"Maura…"

It takes us both a few moments to get past just saying each other's names.

"Do you need anythi-"

"Can I come in and-"

We both speak at the same time. I open the door wider, gesture for her to come in.

I turn around and see her fidgeting with her hands, looking so small and lost and...determined. It is an odd mix and one I can only imagine Maura being able to pull off.

"Casey, I need to talk to you. Please." Her voice is quiet, raw, resolute.

"Maura, I don't think there's anything we…"

"Please? It won't take long," she pleads and I see her fists clenched in front of her.

I sigh, knowing there is no way I can refuse Maura. I'm beginning to believe the entire universe is unable to refuse Maura. It isn't just Jane. "Ok. But if you're just here to say sorry, just say it and we'll move on. It's all I want to do right now, Maura. Move on."

This time, she sighs. "I _am_ sorry, Casey. More than you can ever imagine."

I walk on ahead to the couch and wait for her to take the cue and follow. She sits right at the very edge I'm momentarily afraid she'd slide right off my couch.

"I accept your apology. Now, can we move on? I need to get going." My tone may have sounded short but I feel no remorse.

"You can't break up with Jane, Casey."

I look at her in shock, unsure if I had heard correctly. "What?"

"You can't break up with Jane," she repeats, this time a bit more confidently.

"It's a little too late to tell me that, Maura. I already did," I tell her simply.

I see her confidence waver but only momentarily, replaced by frustration and a confusing hint of sadness.

"I know that, that's why I _am_ here. She needs you, Casey." She stares at me, intense and imploring. I see such turmoil behind her eyes as I imagine she sees in mine.

I feel I have a better understanding of why Jane has always called this woman the dumbest genius she knows, albeit within a different context.

"No, she needs _you_ , Maura. It took me a while to realize that, but I do now," I tell her gently, as if breaking horrible news. I realize it _is_ horrible news. To me, at least. "I think…" I waiver, bracing both our hearts for my next words, "I think it's time you realized that, too, Maura. Jane needs _you_."

She runs her fingers through her hair I just now notice is uncharacteristically disarrayed, tied up in a loose ponytail. Her eyes are looking down at her lap, narrowed and displaying a maelstrom of emotions.

I resist the urge to grab her arms and shake her, shake the truth I have no idea why she's desperate to ignore into her.

She slumps and I watch her deflate in front of me. I _cannot_ comprehend why this woman appears so burdened.

"She thinks she needs me, Casey. I know she loves me, I'm her best friend and she feels sorry for me but I-"

"Hang on, hang on. Stop right there. You cannot be so naive as to think she only loves you because you're her best friend and she feels sorry for you, Maura." I feel like I'm in some parallel world where I'm trying to convince this woman - who is the primary reason I am no longer with the love of my life - that the love of my life is in love with _her_. "She's _in love_ with you."

"She thinks she is, Casey. But I know Jane. She feels things so much, so deeply. It's her grief, it's her fear, it's her guilt talking. She wants to protect me, she wants me to not...die. She wants me to -"

"She wants you to love her, Maura. And I'm pretty sure you do," I tell her quietly, feeling drained by this conversation. "Do you?"

Her gaze drops and I watch her shake her head slowly. "I do but I can't."

"Why the fuck not, Maura?" I ask, a tad frustrated that I have to sit here and convince her that Jane loves her and she loves Jane when all I want to do is drive away to my Nana and forget about the both of them for a while. "I'm sorry. It's just...I don't get it. Just let her protect you, love you, keep you alive, Maura. You'll both be so much less miserable if you do."

"I do love her," I finally hear her admit softly. "I'm sorry," she tells me, looking at me directly with so much contrition. I shrug and manage a smile to acknowledge the sentiment, incapable of more than that.

"Are you in love with her?" I find myself asking, realizing I need to know for sure, actually hear her say it.

She is quiet for an extended, burdened, amount of time. Her head is still down and I hear her crying softly. She nods. And I find myself nodding, too.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You can't help who you love," I repeat the phrase I had just used with Jane not too long ago. "Although you sure seem to be trying very hard to." I surprise myself, and her obviously, with the little quip.

"I'm sorry, Casey," she tells me again. "I've really tried to keep myself from falling in love with her but...it's hard not to."

"Then love her. And let her love you. I don't understand why you're making this so hard for both of you. I've practically given you two my blessing, I can't imagine what else is holding you back."

I begin to look around for my keys, feeling like this conversation is nearing it's end. If not, I will end it soon anyway. There's only so much talk of Jane being in love with Maura and vice versa I can take.

"When I'm gone...she will need you."

My head snaps back onto her at those words. "Your cancer's not back, is it?" I say the first words that come to mind.

"No," she shakes her head with nary a sign of relief. "But it could anytime. My oncologist pretty much told me so."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Maura. I really am." I turn toward her, take a deep breath, sit back down and take one of her hands between mine. "I can be Jane's friend, Maura. Eventually, I think I can get to that point. But I can no longer put my life on hold for her. I refuse to. I owe it to myself," I finish softly.

She nods through her tears and I think it's finally dawning on her how unrealistic her expectations of everyone, including herself, have been.

"I'm sorry for even asking that of you, Casey. After…" she hesitates, "after all the pain we've caused you. You're an extraordinary person, Casey."

"The fact that you're here, asking _me_ to take back the woman _you_ love, that says a lot about you, too, Maura." I squeeze her hand still clasped loosely in mine. "It tells me how big your heart is. And how dumb you can be, for someone who's supposed to be so smart." She finally looks up and we share a smile.

I still hurt but I've come to terms with my pain.

"I feel like I'd be selfish if I let myself love her, be with her knowing my cancer can come back and I can...die."

I laugh at that, instantly feeling terrible afterward. "Jane won't let you. She'll go to the ends of the earth to keep you alive, Maura. I know it, you know it. Just…" I get up from my seat, feeling my restlessness and anxiety coming back. "Just go be with her, Maura. Do yourselves a favor and be with her."

I get up, grab my duffel and head for the door, relieved to find she has followed me. She stops me with a gentle hand at my elbow before I can turn the knob and initially hesitates before giving me a hug. A hug teeming with both gratitude and apology.

I hug her back. "Take care of Jane," I find myself whispering to her.

She nods, I pull away and give her a smile as I open the door to let her out.

And that's when I see a disheveled and clearly anxious Jane running up toward me. "Is Maura there?" she asks, slightly out of breath.

I don't reply, just open the door wider. As soon as she spots the doctor, Jane grabs the other woman in her arms, embracing her with such desperation. "I was so scared when I woke up and you were gone."

"I'm sorry, Jane. I'm sorry I scared you. I had to go and...talk to Casey," I hear Maura reply and in my periphery, I see her hands running up and down Jane's back soothingly.

At the mention of my name, Jane reluctantly lets the doctor go, turning toward me as she wipes tears away.

"I'm sorry, Casey. I...I took a chance she'd come here and…"

"You guessed right. It's ok, Jane just…I really need to go so if you guys can step out, I'll lock up." I try to keep the emotion out of my voice even as I feel that now-familiar though no less painful pinch in my heart.

"Uhm, are you...are you going somewhere?" Jane looks so unsure, so far from the confident, cocky Jane I know.

I do her a favor and give her a simple answer. "I'm going to Nana's for a bit."

Thankfully, they decide to finally exit. I lock up, internally wishing they would just walk away, leave, and not extend what has become an extremely torturous departure for me. I turn around and see Maura has walked to her car at least. Jane stands awkwardly in my path, looking like she wants to say something.

I sigh and walk toward her, left with no other recourse. "Take care, Casey. Be safe, please. And if...if it's ok, can you text me when you get there?" The mixture of uncertainty and concern in her voice tugs at my insides. It reminds me why I loved - still love - this woman.

I nod and smile at her. She reaches toward me and I let myself fall into her arms. I don't know if this will be the last time but it doesn't matter. I loved this woman and will never regret it.

When I finally get to my car and settle behind the wheel, I feel both sorrow and hope.

I can't fool myself into believing I'm no longer mourning. I still am, very much so.

But when I glance at my rearview mirror and see Maura take Jane into her arms and then kiss her with all the love she'd been holding back all this time, I also feel hope.

Jane and Maura have found in each other that once-in-a-lifetime love we all dream of.

There's no reason I wouldn't either.

 

**\- END -**


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Semisonic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end has come. Thanks to anyone who's made it this far. :)

**Epilogue**

 

I'm busy typing out a text message when I see a box of Lucky Charms fly right before my eyes into the grocery cart I'm leaning against. I look away from my phone to find my girlfriend staring intently at a box of Oatmeal Squares.

"Sweetie, just get it. It's oatmeal, too. I'm pretty sure it's a good enough substitute for the hot kind. Just don't get the frosted or glazed or any of those sugar-loaded ones."

This cute redhead scrunches her nose at me, giving in and throwing the cereal box into the cart along with the previous one. "Is that Jane you're texting? Can you ask her to ask Maura if I can really do that?"

"Seriously?" my eyes widen at her request. "If the sugar content's anything over one gram, you know the answer will be no. I can have Maura call you if you're up for a lecture."

Chris gets a good laugh out of that. "Never mind. I'll take a chance on the Oatmeal Squares."

I nod solemnly to indicate how much I agree with her decision and then chuckle as I reach over to squeeze her waist. I always miss touching her any way I can.

I return my attention to the text I had been working on and start walking down the cereal aisle. I feel her arm wrap around my waist and smile to myself, leaning in close to her side. I've met my match in Chris when it comes to displays of affection. We both have no ability to resist tactile gestures. Neither of us complain about it either.

"When's the dinner at Maura's again?" She asks me, indicating the surprise gathering to celebrate Jane's promotion to Sergeant. After Vince took over from a retired Cavanaugh as Lieutenant, Jane had been the natural choice to succeed him. It helped matters along when Jane passed the test on her first try and with flying colors.

"Tomorrow at six but she wants us to be there by five to make sure no one accidentally comes the same time as Jane. You know Maura, everything's gotta be planned to the second."

"If it's a surprise, why are you texting Jane about it then?" Chris asks while grabbing a bottle of olive oil. I'm basically a tag-along at this grocery shopping trip. She's decided, for no reason other than because she wants to, to make me dinner all week this week.

"Oh, Maura got her to invite us to dinner tomorrow and I'm supposed to say we're not available so she can then just fake plan to have them go out on a date." I smile at the thought of Maura scheming, imagining her having an Excel file for the logistics of this dinner. I can also imagine Jane getting suspicious. She is a detective after all and always seems to be able to sniff out surprise parties.

We've all come a long way since that fateful morning I dropped by Maura's house. It was when I was at Nana's for the weekend that I met Chris. She was Nana's physical therapist who had been helping her get back on her feet after the ankle fracture she had suffered a couple of days prior to my arrival. She, of course, did not want me to worry about her while I had been going crazy about the Jane situation so she had kept it a secret from me.

I pretty much ignored Chris the first time she came. I saw her four more times the week I had been there. The last time at the airport, early morning, after she had kindly offered to drive me. I had known Nana was up to something when she begged off on coming along, claiming a headache. I knew her sharp senses could not have missed Chris and I had started chatting each other up while she did her exercises and even after their sessions when Chris would accept the offer for Nana's baked goods. She never complained about their one-hour sessions running well into a second hour either.

I had driven over to Nana's but after an urgent summon from my boss late one night - a few days before my scheduled return to Boston - I decided to leave my car and fly back. An excuse to return to Bridgeport did not hurt.

In truth, Chris had been part of the decision. I had begun to enjoy her company more and more and when she seemed really bummed that I was leaving two days earlier than originally planned, my decision was cemented. Even as I grieved tremendously over losing Jane, the pain had been somewhat blunted by the combination of Nana and Chris' efforts to distract me.

I returned to pick up my car that same weekend and when Chris rode shotgun on the drive back to Boston before flying back home after just one night over, I had felt reassured by the new relationship - a friendship. The attraction had been there, but it was not the primary driving force for wanting to keep seeing her and know her better. I found her one of the kindest, warmest, and just plain joyful human beings I had ever come across. We had kept in touch and after about three months of a long-distance friendship, she visited me in Boston and revealed that she had been entertaining the idea of moving. I couldn't have been happier.

And more scared.

I knew I was feeling something for her but had been terrified of even thinking about starting a new relationship - a rebound one which is what I was afraid it was.

As soon as Chris moved to Boston a couple of months later though, I had found myself helpless against my attraction to her. It had grown by leaps and bounds, from barely under the surface to a full boil. It didn't help that she relentlessly pursued me in the subtlest of ways. She was my friend, first and foremost. I gave in and fell. Deeply and oh so hard. And we've been going strong since, more than a year later, and I can honestly say I've never been as happy as I have been the past year or so.

Not even when I had been with Jane.

And I say that with nary a trace of bitterness.

About a month after officially getting together with Chris, Jane and I started to reconnect, thanks to Maura who had never failed to send me a text every so often. I knew she had been doing it mainly to keep communication lines and the possibility of remaining friends open.

She's just a wonderful person and human being, this Maura Isles. Which is why I had been one of the people who had genuinely rejoiced when I learned that she was finally cancer-free.

The first night we went on a double date, it was like we had all four of us been friends for years. That night, my heart was singing. Singing all sorts of songs of joy and contentment and peace. I still loved Jane, but only in that steady, familiar way you would an old friend. Nothing that would compare to the thrilling, intense, and all-encompassing way I loved Chris.

The same way Jane loves Maura.

"Isn't there anything you need to get?" Chris breaks me out of my pensiveness with her question, thrown out at the same time I feel a slight nudge on my hip.

I shake my head, "I'm good."

"Ok, let's go checkout then." She's already started unloading the overflowing cart and has that distracted look which means she's already planning the next thing on her to-do list. My suspicions are confirmed when I see her start chewing on her bottom lip. I lean in and give her a quick kiss, finding the lip-biting irresistible.

"Your wheels are spinning too fast," I whisper in her ear teasingly. "Slow down."

She chuckles, giving me a quick peck back. "Planning that marshmallow fluff chocolate cake I promised Maura I'll bring over tomorrow."

"Oooh," my eyes widen excitedly. Chris makes the best marshmallow fluff chocolate cake. Fluff-loving Jane had, of course, fallen in love with it the first time she tried it. "I'll help with the frosting!"

She rolls her eyes but nods her agreement nonetheless.

I help her unload the cart, all the while humming a happy tune.

* * *

Jane had, of course, been sufficiently surprised by the dinner party. And I say sufficiently because I have a feeling she did have an inkling about said "surprise" party, however, didn't have the heart to burst Maura's bubble. Maura was clueless and just seemed thoroughly overjoyed by Jane's reaction.

The two of them have only recently moved to a house still in Beacon Hill but a little smaller and much "warmer," according to Jane. It also probably didn't hurt that it does not have a guest house. Even though Maura had insisted on keeping the previous house for Angela and maybe even Frankie, the older Rizzoli had declined, claiming a place of her own would help her feel more like her old, in-control-of-her-life self. Needless to say, despite the changes, everyone seems to have found a place where they better fit in.

It's been a delightful night so far, filled with laughter and a joyful intimacy possible only among family, which is what we are.

Family.

I finally feel like I am part of this family. It's ironic that I had been out of my relationship with Jane before I felt secure enough in my place within this group of people with a shared affection for one another. Between my Nana and this group, I feel somewhat invincible.

Speaking of my Nana, even she has become part of this family. When she had visited a few months ago, her and Angela had gotten along so well it's possible they now talk to each other more than I do with my own grandmother.

My attention shifts to my right when I feel Maura shuffling out of her seat. "Let me open another bottle of wine," she excuses herself. I watch Jane's gaze follow her all the way to the kitchen and smile to myself. I start an internal countdown, knowing she'd be trailing the doctor anytime now.

Sure enough, it takes her less than a minute before she's pushing her chair back. "I'm gonna go check on her. It'll take her an hour to pick a bottle to open," she announces while everyone humors her with murmurs of "go on" and "sure, Jane." I chuckle when she subtly bumps the back of Frankie's head with an elbow as she walks past him.

Five minutes later and with still no sign of either of the two or a newly opened bottle of wine, Angela gets up to "get those two back."

From the dining room, which is now conveniently separated from the kitchen by a partial wall, we all clearly hear the conversation.

"You two have guests waiting, control your hormones! Stop acting like teenagers and bring us that bottle," Angela scolds a little too loudly for our benefit, eliciting laughter from everyone at the table. Jane's indignant huff and "Ma!" could also be heard loudly.

"Actually, Angela, a person technically could not control their own hormones. They are self-regulating. What a person can control is their state of mind and…"

This time, Jane's groan drones clearly and once again, we all laugh.

"Ok, ok, Maur. So not the time for a lecture. And Ma, go back in there, we'll be right behind you," Jane barks in her familiar rasp.

Angela walks back toward us with a smirk and a wink.

I couldn't resist needling Jane a little bit more.

"You know it's rude to invite people to your home for a meal and then leave them while the hosts make out…" I call out, bracing myself for that inevitable reaction.

"I did not invite you, Finnigan!" I hear Jane reply, referring to me by my last name.

"Well, Maura did and I don't see her here either…" Frankie chimes in and we high five, knowing that would surely bring the doctor who has always been allergic to rudeness and violations of etiquette.

Maura indeed reappears instantly, looking embarrassed. "I apologize. It was, she...the uh…" she stumbles. Jane reappears behind her shooting daggers at me and Frankie. We laugh louder.

"Save yourself the hives, Maur. They're not worth it, just hand that bottle over to these alcoholics who can't wait another minute for their wine," she gently pushes Maura, obviously controlling her own amusement. "And that includes you, Ma." That earns her a slap on the bottom from Angela when she walks past her.

Half an hour and much more laughter later, Jane excuses herself to get the marshmallow fluff chocolate cake Chris had made. I get up to help her while I gesture for Maura to sit back down. "We want our cake in the next five minutes, Maura, not five hours," I gently tease her.

I watch Jane carefully take the cake out of the fridge, gently place it on the counter and, without missing a beat, dip a finger in the frosting.

"You're lucky it's just me and not Maura who just saw you do that." She jumps back in surprise, promptly shooting me a glare juxtaposed over smiling eyes and a mouth turned up at the corners.

"You'd be surprised what she lets me get away with nowadays," she brags with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Ah, so you're slowly bringing her over to the dark side." I shake my head, exaggerating disappointment and dread.

"Not very easily, there's a lot of fight left in her," she replies with a chuckle. "And I don't really want to bring her all the way over anyway, just enough to get things exciting. 'Cause, you know…" she trails off and I detect a hint of a blush developing on her cheeks, "...I love her just the way she is." She turns away from me and I'm 100% sure she's hiding a full-blown blush now. Ah, Jane. She still hasn't gotten over her embarrassment over sentimental, romantic declarations.

"What was that word again?" I poke her on the waist from behind. "Ah, yes. Whipped!"

"Like you're not. Chris has you watching Dancing with the stars!" She fires back, giving me a poke in retaliation.

I flush a bit but smile in agreement nonetheless. "We've done well, haven't we, Jane?"

We share a smile rich in affection and history. We truly have both come a long way since that time Maura had cancer and we struggled with keeping our relationship alive. "We really have. Chris is good for you. You look so much happier now than you ever did when you were with me." I note that her tone carries only satisfaction and a hint of teasing, not a trace of bitterness or regret. And I share the same sentiment when I think about Maura and her. We truly have found our better halves.

"So when are you finally popping the question to Dr. Isles?" I ask casually, throwing out the question that risks agitating Jane.

I'm pleasantly surprised when, instead of a furrowed brow and a distressed look, I actually see a smile on Jane's face. A proud smile at that. "Oh I don't know, Case," she replies with a smirk. "Who knows?" She winks at me and my eyes pop out of their sockets.

"Oh my god, you're doing it tonight, aren't you?" I whisper somewhat loudly, unable to contain my excitement.

"No!" she protests immediately. "Don't get too excited, jeez. Not tonight. I want to make sure it's special. It would be great to have my entire family with me, like you guys are tonight but...I really want it to just be me and her. Is that selfish?"

"Definitely not, Jane," I reassure her, reaching out to give her forearm a squeeze. "You deserve to have that moment only between you and Maura. God knows after you're married, you'll probably rarely get a moment to yourselves without any of us." I feel a jolt of pleasure when I see my words have served to reassure her. "Let me know if there's anything I can do help plan or whatever."

"Oh, I will. I'll run it by you when I have everything sorted out. I'm gonna need some help logistically anyway. Thanks, Case." She reaches over to give me a hug. I give her an affectionate squeeze, hoping it conveys how happy and proud I am for and of her.

"Should I be worried?" I hear from over my shoulder and turn to find Maura with raised eyebrows and a playful smile.

"Not at all," I play along. "Your girlfriend's not my type," I add, earning a pinch on the side from Jane.

"Have you come to check on how evenly I'm cutting the pieces, hon?" Jane asks, teasing and just looking so smitten when she gazes at Maura who has moved over next to her.

"No," Maura answers quickly. "I don't need to check to know you _will_ cut them unevenly," she adds with a straight face.

I laugh out loud as I hold my hand up for a high five with the doctor behind Jane's back. "Touché, Maura. Touché."

I watch Maura quickly soften the jab by going on tiptoes to touch her lips with Jane's pouting ones, her left arm wrapping around a slim waist.

"Need help, Sergeant?" she asks her girlfriend with a chuckle, all the while rubbing noses with and caressing Jane's cheek with her free hand.

I make a gagging sound. "I'm gonna leave you two but if you're not serving cake in the next two minutes, I'm sending Angela to get you," I warn them, turning to head back to the dining room where I see Chris throwing her head back and laughing out loud at something Frankie had said.

I bite my lip, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of happiness. I glance back at Maura helping Jane cut the cake, all the while giggling like giddy teenagers and am reminded of everything good we've gained.

I have found the love of my life and still got to find _and_ keep my place within this wonderful, loving family.

I realize it is possible to have your cake _and_ eat it, too.

 

**\- FIN -**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, reviews are cherished.  
> First time to read this story in its entirety! Hoping to get motivated (to write, hopefully. Not to give up writing. Lol.)


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